


Every little thing he does is magic

by itsallAvengers



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, As in Tony gets called a whore a lot but thats pretty much it, BAMF Tony Stark, Character Death, Derogatory Language, Everyone Needs A Hug, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Steve Rogers, Pining Steve Rogers, Pining Tony Stark, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Slow Burn, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers-centric, Substance Abuse, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, stupid kids in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-10 22:11:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 156,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12921276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsallAvengers/pseuds/itsallAvengers
Summary: “Does… I mean, which one of them has a motorbike?” Steve couldn’t help himself- he was ridiculously curious, and he just wanted to know as much as he could about the boy with the blue eyes and dark hair as possible. “Pretty expensive looking- leather seats, and really blue eyes- the boy, not the bike, obviously. He was- uh, he was smoking, too.”There was a silence. Sam was making an amused face at Steve. “Tony Stark?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes- a highschool au! Steve is tiny and new and doesn't know anyone, really- and Tony is the polar opposite. Tony is...
> 
> A mess.
> 
> It's cool. They'll work it out

Steve saw him on the very first day.

 

It was sunny; the early morning glare pissing everyone off at the get-go, and the fact that it was a Monday seemed only to be heightening everyone’s irritation levels. Steve had only just stepped off the bus two minutes ago and he’d already been barged out of the way several different times, which sure made for a great first impression.

Steve was already intensely fucking nervous. New situations, new schools...they weren’t his thing. At all. And the lack of acknowledgement wasn’t helping much. Not that he wanted to be stared at, obviously- but he’d been used to meeting with Peggy and Bucky in the parking lot every morning, so this just felt...weird.  
A lot of things tended to feel weird these days, though- Steve tended to just get on with them. He was good at that.

Hitching his bag higher up on his shoulder, he took a deep breath.  _ Brand new start,  _ he told himself, n _ ew friends. New places.  _ They’d said it might be good for him to experience different things. Healthy. A great way to get his life moving again after-

  
  


Yeah. Anyway. New beginnings. Right.

  
  


It was just a school. And he only had to hold out for another year or so. He was already coming to the tail end of 11th grade, and once he got through 12th, he could say adios to education forever, if he wanted to. It wasn’t a big deal. A year and a few months, tops. Easy as pie.

Pulling out his phone, he saw the texts from Bucky and Peggy wishing him luck, and grinned despite himself. Moving away from Brooklyn and over to Manhattan had been hard- not being able to see both of his best friends whenever he wanted was even harder- but they were still there. And he was going back down to see them after school, so it wasn’t the end of the world. He could get through this.

His phone started ringing in his hands, and he swiped up instinctively when he saw Bucky’s face flashing on the screen. “You literally just sent me a message,” Steve began with, hopping up the stairs and making his way through the parking lot, “now you just look clingy.”

“It’s because I am,” Bucky said down the line, “so sue me for wanting to make sure you haven’t thrown yourself in front of a car yet. I worry.”

“Don’t,” Steve rolled his eyes, “there will be no leaping in front of fast-moving vehicles any time soon. Promise.”

It was a joke, but he heard Bucky sighing in relief anyway. Steve couldn’t even blame him. The last half a year had been kind of… messy. And the situation he was in right now was far from perfect.

“Well consider me assured- but I’m gonna call you again when you get out anyway- I want to know every detail about the new school, alright? People, classes, cafeteria food- all of it.”

Steve sighed. “You know, there’s really not much difference between our school and this one. I bet you a hundred bucks there will be the same groups, the same sort of teachers, and the same assholes as there always are. It’s a universal constant.”

“You don’t know that,” Bucky said, “Peggy is always telling us how weird school over here is compared to England.”

“They’re different countries, Buck, it doesn’t count.”

“Of course it counts. Everywhere is different and that is a fact. So you gotta keep an open mind and not let any bad impressions get you down, okay? It’s all gonna work out fine.”

“You say that like you have a clue,” Steve said wryly, “although touched as I am by the confidence boost, I’m probably just going to have to wait and see for mys-”

 

He cut himself off as his eyes caught on something ahead of him, and before he knew it, he was jerking to a standstill in order to look.  
There was a motorbike- gleaming grey chrome and leather seats that obviously cost a fortune- but somehow managing to be overshadowed by the boy leaning on it.

 

He was tall. Dark-haired. Blue eyes that were piercing enough Steve could see them all the way over where he was. He wore a leather jacket that fitted perfectly and ripped jeans, and there was a cigarette held between bowed lips as he searched his pockets, presumably for a lighter. 

 

He was...completely and utterly beautiful. 

 

The boy obviously found what he was looking for, because his shoulders slackened a little and slender fingers pulled the lighter to his mouth, lighting up with a practiced ease. Steve was aware that smoking was prohibited on school grounds, but this kid didn’t seem to give much of a fuck as his hand curled around the flame, protecting it from wind until smoke was twirling into the air in front of his mouth. 

The way his body curved as he leaned back on the seat made his hair fall forward, a few strands arcing down toward his stupidly long eyelashes, and Steve was just  _ mesmerised. _ Totally struck dumb by the sight of him, and he didn’t even know why. It wasn’t like he’d never seen beautiful people before- and he wasn’t one of those guys (Bucky) who got weirdly turned on by the sight of others smoking- but here he was. Standing like an idiot in the middle of the parking lot because he’d forgotten how to move.

There was a sudden blaring from his left, and he jumped about a mile in the air as he stumbled out of the way of a beat-up truck with an angry boy staring out the window at him. The books in his hands almost went flying- it was only sheer determination that kept them in his grip.

Well. That was one way to get noticed. He felt himself blushing, looking down and hurrying out of the way before the guy deliberately drove over him. When his eyes turned back upward, they were pulled automatically into the gaze of the boy he’d been staring at seconds previously. Who had obviously heard the noise and looked up. At him.

  
  


He stared back dumbly. Bucky was talking in his ear, but he zoned it out. Those fucking _ eyes-  _ they were hypnotising. So... blue. Clouded by the smoke in front of his face, but not enough to negate the colour.

The boy cocked his head and pulled the cigarette out of his mouth, blowing out a cloud of smoke. Steve was still staring.  
God, this was so fucking weird.

Eventually, the boy’s attention was pulled elsewhere, when three other boys wandered up to him and began their greetings. Steve blinked a few times, looking back down at the floor and taking a tentative step over toward the steps again.  
School. Right.

 

“-You still there? Steve? Steeeeeeve-”

“Yeah, I’m here,” Steve said quickly down the line, sparing one last glance over to the boy, who just so happened to be looking back over to him again. He cocked an eyebrow and did something with his mouth that could almost be construed as a smile, before pushing off his bike and heading in the opposite direction of school with his friends. “Just…”

“Just what?”

 

Steve shook his head and rubbed a hand over his eyes. 

“Nothing. Never mind”

  
  
  
  


_____

  
  
  
  


“So- what do you think? How were your first few lessons? You made friends?”

 

Steve turned, watching Sam hurry over to him. The boy belonged to the couple who’d taken Steve in after… after what had happened to his mom, and so they’d become close pretty quick. Although their home was small, it was cosy and welcoming, and honestly, Steve would have been fine living in their back garden if he’d had to- anywhere was better than being put one of those big buildings with thirty other kids in the same situation as him. He wasn’t even sure he’d have survived that. Sam and his family were a blessing, at this point. 

He shrugged, hitching his bag high again. “It was okay, I guess. You got some nice art facilities. The people are... people.”

“I really would fucking hope so,” Sam jostled their shoulders together and then held on to his elbow as Steve’s 5-foot-nothing body almost lost footing, “I know this is probably scary as shit- but you’ll get used to it here. We don’t bite. Much.”

“Much?”

“Stay away from Darcy Lewis. She’s unpredictable on a good day.”

“Right, Steve nodded, wandering down the corridors and letting Sam guide them, hopefully toward the cafeteria, “so- who’s who ‘round here then?”

Sam grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. “Good question. Right- so between our year and the seniors, there’s the best group, which is obviously mine. I hang out with these idiots called Clint and Natasha, mostly. There are other people like Sharon and Phil- oh, and sometimes a guy called Bruce will sit with us, when he’s not working- but that’s pretty much the whole group. We’re a friendly bunch, don’t worry. Long as you don’t steal Clint’s food or try hit on Nat, you’re all good.”

Right. Sounded pretty nice. Safe. “Who else is there?”

Sam shrugged. “Typical cliques, you know. There are the popular kids- you might wanna stay away from them, though, they’re dangerously bitchy. Sunset Bain and her minions.” He shuddered a little, pulling a face, “God, the amount of drama her and her group have caused over time. She’s currently joining forces with Whitney Frost and her girls to form some sort of alliance of evil, but God only knows how long _ that  _ is gonna last-”

“What about the guys?” Steve cut in, mind casting back to that morning before he could stop it.

Sam paused, shooting a look at Steve. “Most of them hang out in smaller groups. There are the jock-type ones, but they’re pretty cool. People tend to merge, a lot of the time. You’ll see some of the girls hanging out with the jocks- or all of the jocks and girls going over to one of the popular guy’s houses and having a dodgy house party on the outskirts of town-”

“There’s a group of popular guys?” Steve asked.

Sam shrugged, making a gesture with his hand. “I mean, I’m naming these groups very generally, but… yeah. Mostly they’re just popular ‘cause they cause trouble, you know how it is- a lot of ‘em smoke and get expelled a lot and shit, it’s weird, man, I don’t get it-”

“Does… I mean, which one of them has a motorbike?” Steve couldn’t help himself- he was ridiculously curious, and he just wanted to know as much as he could about the boy with the blue eyes and dark hair as possible. “Pretty expensive looking- leather seats, and really blue eyes- the boy, not the bike, obviously.”

There was a silence. Sam was making an amused face at Steve. “Tony Stark?”

Steve shrugged, and Sam made a huffing sound. “Yeah- that’s Tony, alright. He’s one of the seniors. Flashy. Probably the most recognisable guy in school- everyone knows about him. He’s… crazy. That’s the only word I can use to describe him- I don’t know him, but I’ve heard stuff. He’s been expelled from a few schools before this. I’m pretty sure he’s been arrested more than once, too. Sometimes I’ll hear him slamming the door of the class next to me and walking out. God only knows how he’s still even here- his dad probably bought the school out. They’re loaded.”

 

Steve nodded. The name… suited him. He could definitely see him as a Tony.

 

“Steve?” Sam prodded him with his elbow gently, and when he looked up, Sam was shaking his head a little, “Word of advice. Don’t get involved with the ones like him. All of them are just… they’re not the type of people you’d wanna be associating with. You’ll end up with a criminal record by the end of the week. And if you get on the wrong side of them, they’d tear you apart. People like Tony Stark are not there to make friends with.”

Steve swallowed, nodding. Yeah- he’d sensed that the moment he saw the guy. There was a chaos about him that was noticeable from the first moment of contact. Steve wasn’t an idiot- he knew danger when he saw it.

“Understood,” he said, readjusting his bag once again and pushing the sight of that tiny knowing smile out of his mind, “show me to the ‘best group in school’ then.”

Sam grinned, gesturing to the entrance of the cafeteria. “After you,” he said.

 

Steve walked in, and the sound hit him like a wall. Hundreds of kids were milling around, talking and laughing and moving through the crowds with ease, and for a moment he felt a little overwhelmed. That was… a lot of new faces. They all seemed to know exactly where to go and what to do, and then there was him- stuck out like a sore thumb, with his too-small frame and too-large backpack, he must look like a fucking idiot-

“It’s cool man, deep breaths,” Sam was at his side, shoulder a constant presence next to him, and Steve nodded again- seemed like he hadn’t stopped since he’d woken up that morning- “you can wait out here and I’ll go get the others. We can find somewhere else to hang out.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Steve stepped forward again, because he wasn’t one to shy away from this sort of thing, “sorry, it’s just…”

“A lot?” Sam raised an eyebrow, understanding.

Steve sighed. The heavy feeling in his chest gained a few pounds. “A lot,” he agreed quietly.

Sam didn’t say anything- but his hand rose and squeezed against Steve’s shoulder. “Well, you’ve done fucking great so far, dude. Honestly- I’m kind of shocked. When dad said we were taking in a fifteen year old guy rather than the usual foster kids, I thought it was going to go… very differently.  You’ve been better than any of us could have imagined.”

Steve grinned sheepishly, following Sam as he began to wind his way around the masses of people and find their table. “I’m tough,” he said, pride in his voice. It was true- he had learned to be, over the course of his life. It was the only way he’d been able to make it through.

  
  


“Well, I already like him.”

  
  


He jerked a little, looking down at the girl sat on the table to his left. She had wavy red hair, unruly and hacked off at the neck- but she was still somehow gorgeous, despite the apparent disinterest in her appearance. He watched Sam grin at her and flop down into the gap she’d left, and figured- “you must be Natasha.”

She stuck out a dainty hand, but when Steve wrapped his own around in greeting, the shake was shockingly firm. “Indeed. It’s lovely to meet you.”

“I- you too, yeah,” he choked, clutching his hand back into his chest as she finally released him and smiled, shuffling across the bench in order to make room for him to sit.

“Ughnf, wait, is the new guy here?” Steve jumped a little as suddenly he watched another boy jerk upright from the opposite bench where it seemed he’d previously been having a nap on. His hair was plastered to his face, and a bandage ran across the bridge of his nose. “Steve, right?”

The boy reached over the table and offered his hand. Slightly more wary now, Steve returned the motion- but nothing cracked or was otherwise maimed, and he sighed in relief.

“Don’t worry, that greeting is exclusive to Natasha,” the boy grinned, “she likes to lay down the law from the get-go. Me? I’m more happy to let you push until we descend into a brawl in the middle of th[e school cafeteria-”

“As if I’d ever let you make a scene like that in my cafeteria,” Natasha poked him across the table, “this place is for eating and sleeping only. You’d have to take it to the courts, and by that time you’d have lost interest anyway.”

The boy- Clint, he guessed- shrugged in defeat. “She’s not wrong. I’m Clint, by the way. I didn’t already say that, did I? I can’t remember.”

“No, you didn’t,” Steve couldn’t help but laugh as Sam sighed, throwing a wrapper at him and saying “just go back to sleep, Clint.”

The boy saluted lazily, and then his head dropped back under the table again. Steve just watched him. “Does he do that often?”

“More than would be considered normal, yes,” Natasha said with an absent shrug, as she shoved her fork into the pasta, “but you get used to it. Anyway- tell me a bit about yourself, Steve. Where you from?”

“Brooklyn,” he answered automatically, smile forming on his face, “lived there my whole life.”

Natasha nodded. “Bet this sucks ass, then,” she said bluntly, and Sam stiffened a little beside Steve, but he just laughed. Right- not one to sugar coat it, then.  
“Yep,” he said with a smile, “it really does.”

Her face softened a fraction, and she smiled at him. “Well, at least you’re not gonna be wandering around alone. We’ve got your back, Steve.”

He nodded at her, and felt at least one worry ease off his shoulders a little. He could check that one off his list, thank God. “Thank you,” he murmured gratefully.

  
  


Yeah. Okay. So it wasn’t so bad. He could do this.

  
  
  
  


_____

  
  
  
  


Over the course of the next few weeks, he never stopped seeing Tony Stark.

  
  


He didn’t know what it was. But wherever he looked, the boy was there. On the corridors. Wandering past his class. And every damn time, they’d somehow manage to catch one another’s eye. Tony didn’t smile at him, as such- but he always looked sort of amused, like he was thinking of a joke Steve didn’t know of. And his stupid hair would flick everywhere as he scraped a hand through it, and then he’d turn away and that would be that. Did he even go to any classes himself? Where did he get all that free time to seemingly just be wherever Steve looked? It was distracting, that’s what it was.

 

He told Bucky and Peggy about it, and his stupid best friends just raised their eyebrows and looked smug. “Oof, didn’t take you long to jump right into things, did it?” Bucky said with a look toward Peggy.

Steve rolled his eyes and kicked out across the bed, poking him in the stomach. “Don’t be an idiot,” he said, “Tony Stark is not… that sort of person. I’m just curious, that’s all.”

“Oh, and we all know just where curiosity leads, don’t we?” Peggy smiled smugly at him, “it kills the cat, Steven.”

“And then satisfaction brings it back,” Steve snapped quickly, sitting up when his friends just seemed to grow more and more amused with every word, “Ugh, you are both the worst, I should have just left you behind, honestly-”

“Oh, darling, you wound us,” Peggy dived for him, tugging him back down on the bed, where he was sat on by a pouting Bucky. “Yeah, Steve, look at how wounded we are.”

“I don’t- care,” Steve wheezed, batting Bucky’s waist uselessly, “I hate you both.”

“Well, we aren’t going to help you with your Tony Stark problem if you hate us then, are we?” Bucky asked, whilst Peggy nodded solemnly.

“And how exactly do you intend to help me at all?”

“Ah- Glad you asked,” Peggy said, sitting up instantly and jumping off the bed, hair falling into her eyes as she leaned over Bucky’s desk and grabbed his laptop. “We’re going to do some detective work.”

“We’re going to google him like stalkers,” Bucky clarified, then dodged a smack around the head from Peggy.

  
  
  


Of course, googling didn’t exactly help matters much.

  
  


“Damn,” Steve breathed, looking at all the news articles; the blurred photos of a boy younger than what he was now, lying unconscious on a table, obviously drunk. Police reports. Paparazzi shots. And-

“Fuck, your guy’s filthy fucking rich,” Bucky’s eyes were at his hairline as he stared at the little Stark Industries logo in the corner of the tab, “and also an heir to one of the biggest businesses in the world.”

“Well, that was certainly not what I expected,” Peggy admitted, mouth slightly parted.

“Can’t say I did either,” Steve spoke into the room- trying to process the information in front of him and stick it to the boy he knew, if only through school rumours. They didn’t fit- Tony Stark was absolutely the last person Steve would have pegged as a business heir.  
He wondered if that was the point.

“Yeah, okay, seriously now Steve,” Bucky grabbed his shoulder and looked down at him seriously, “you might wanna not pull on that thread. Maybe go for someone a little less... Disastrous.”

“I’m not- I’m not ‘going for him’,” Steve rolled his eyes and tried not to blush. Bucky wasn’t wrong- getting caught up in something like that would be like walking out into a hurricane- “I was just interested. And now I know, see? The cat is satisfied, and is not going to dig any further.”

Bucky and Peggy looked over Steve’s head at one another. He pushed them both backward onto the bed with a huff.  
He wasn’t lying. Seriously. 

  
  
  
  


_____

  
  
  
  


Steve stared at the wall sullenly and tried not to think about how getting sent to the principal's office after the third week of starting at the school was most probably not the sort of first impression he wanted to be making. 

 

It wasn’t even his fault. Or- well- maybe he  _ had _ started it, but it wasn’t exactly for an unworthy cause. He’d just been minding his own business in the toilets, and then a group of assholes had decided to steal some poor kid’s homework and give it a bath right in fucking front of him. What was he supposed to have done- just walked off? He didn’t work that way- and the poor boy had looked almost ready to start crying when he saw what they were doing. It wasn’t fair.

So yeah- Steve may have been sporting a bust up lip and a slight concussion after getting shoved into the tiles on the wall, but it was worth it. And that’s exactly what he’d tell the principal when he asked. And Bucky when he asked. And mom when sh-

He stopped that train of thought abruptly and jerked a little. The heaviness inside grew ten sizes.

Right. Not mom.

  
  
  


“Wouldn’t have pegged you for the kind of guy who’d get sent to the principal’s office.”

  
  
  


Steve turned to the sound of the voice, and his mouth dropped open as he spotted none other than Tony fucking Stark, leaning against the wall as casual as anything and looking at him with that same half-amused smile playing across his mouth. He wasn’t wearing his jacket today- just a deep red shirt that was a few sizes too big and tucked loosely into his tightly fitted jeans. There was a pair of sunglasses resting on his hair and a phone in his hand, and fuck, Steve had been silent for a while now-

“What would you have pegged me as, then?” He asked, frowning a little.

Tony shrugged, cocking his head again, like he was focusing in on Steve properly. He’d done that the first time they’d looked at one another, and Steve just sat there a little dumbly, trying not to blush under the stare. “You know- I genuinely can’t say. Innocent, maybe. You give off that vibe.”

“I do not-” Steve spluttered a little, “I do not give off an ‘innocent’ vibe.”

“You really do. I think it’s the height. And the hair.”

“What?”

“It’s very innocent-looking hair,” Tony shrugged again, looking around the corner absently, “anyway- you wanna go in first, or shall I?”

Steve folded his arms, trying to make himself look a little taller. Tony seemed to spot it, and for the first time ever, Steve watched an actual smile spread across his lips before being pulled back and smoothed down. “I’ll go- I got here first,” Steve said gruffly, beginning to stand.

“Just out of curiosity, what exactly did you do?” Tony asked, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning his head back against the wall. He looked absolutely casual- he probably made this trip on a weekly basis, after all.

Steve paused. Would Tony laugh if he admitted it? Finish the job the other guys had started?

Well- at least he’d know to avoid him if that was the case, Steve thought. “Two shitheads were trying to ruin some kid’s work. I stepped in. They changed tune and decided to ruin my face instead.”

There was a short silence. Tony turned his head to look at him again, the hint of a frown on his face. “Hmm,” was all he said.

“What was yours?” Steve asked, if only to waste a bit more time- he really wasn’t in the mood to be yelled at- he’d got enough of that at his old school.

Tony’s lip curled- not a smile, but more a recalling of a memory. He was silent for a moment, as if debating what to say, before ending up with “same as you. Got in a fight. Again.”

Steve just nodded wordlessly. Judging from the lack of injuries on Tony’s body, Steve figured he must have won it.   
They stood there for a few more moments, the silence growing more and more heavy, until eventually Steve just sighed and then jerked his head awkwardly over to the door. “I’ll go in, then,” he said weakly, turning on his heel and knocking at the door.

Just as he heard the voice that told him to come in, Tony’s own mixed in with it, thrown out absently as the boy turned back to his phone and started typing lazily.

  
  


“They may have tried to ruin your face, sweetheart, but they didn’t succeed.”

  
  


Steve’s mouth fell open, and he choked a little bit, unsure of how exactly to react to that without completely embarrassing himself. He was aware that his cheeks had probably gone crimson, and was just grateful that Tony was no longer looking at him and so could not see the baffled look painted on his stupid face.

“Right,” Steve said quickly, “okay.”

He stepped into the principal’s office and slammed the door shut behind him- the last thing he heard from the other room being the light sound of Tony’s laugh.

 

 

He kept the sound in his head for the rest of the day.

  
  
  
  


When the bell rang out to signal the end of last period, Steve was still thinking about it. It was a nice laugh- softer than he’d imagined. Tony’s voice was lovely, too. Warm, smooth, despite the cigarettes he always seemed to be smoking. The sort of voice that you listen to for hours and hours.

Fuck. He had no idea why he was thinking so hard about it- no idea why Tony had that much effect on him at all. They barely knew each other. Tony was quite obviously trouble. It was just… stupid.

He huffed, hoisting his bag further on his shoulder and walking down the hill. Of course- speak of the devil and he shall appear- because there he was again, in his usual place, leaning against his damn bike and smoking another damn cigarette, completely oblivious to Steve’s eyes on him.

Which reminded him- he should probably take his eyes off him.

Twisting away, he jumped down the stairs quickly, readjusting his bag. He passed a couple of kids in his class along the way; felt their eyes on him curiously, but just blanked it out. It was only when he heard a snigger and then felt the all too familiar yank on his back that let him know those stares were more than just curiosity- they were calculating.

It didn’t take long for people to figure out who the weaker ones were. Sharks smelling blood in the water- that was the best analogy for kids like that.

Steve jerked to a stop, taking a deep breath. He’d already got a warning that very day for fighting- he wasn’t going to start again. So instead he just turned around and glared at them as they raised their eyebrows at him. He couldn’t put a name to either of them- they weren’t relevant to him in any way- but if he were to guess, it would probably be something like Troy. Or Chad. Or Jace. Or perhaps an obscure one, like Twist or some shit-

“Do you have a problem?” He asked roughly, holding his hands tighter around the straps of his bag, knowing that was the first place they’d go to. He had experience with this shit.

“We might,” the bigger one shrugged casually, sneer curling on his lip, but Steve didn’t quail under it. It wasn’t even a decent sneer. “You might wanna watch yourself, Rogers.”

“Noted, Troy,” Steve rolled on his heel and turned back around without another word. If they pushed him down the stairs right then, it wouldn’t very convenient, but he just had to hope they weren’t keen on trying to make a scene.

When he glanced back at them, they were looking at him in confusion. He saluted them lazily, and let his eyes slip away- noting Tony watching him again as he did so. Only for a second, because then Steve had turned around once more, but in the fraction of a moment their eyes had met, Steve noticed the frown creased on his forehead. God only knew what he was thinking- it seemed like sort of a mess up in that head- and Steve just let it slide in the end. He kept his eyes firmly facing the path in front of him and refused to turn around even once.

It wasn’t important. Just some people he had to hang out with for six hours a day and then forget about as soon as he was gone. He ignored the laughing from the boys behind him.  
He was used to it.

  
  
  
  


_____

  
  
  
  


“Hey, mom.”

  
  


Steve bit his lip, shuffling his feet under the grass and zipping his coat up a little further. This felt weird. It always felt weird, coming here. The graveyard was pretty tiny- ‘round the back of the church they’d both attended, and encased by a pretty little brick wall that came up to his waist. The sunlight still hung low on the horizon- he’d come very early on in the morning, after all. Had to, if he wanted to have the time.

Sarah Rogers’ final resting place was simple. It had been a pauper’s funeral and a pauper’s grave- even in the end, she’d made sure no money was wasted on her. It had all been put into Steve’s savings; and so all she’d gotten in the end was a little stone plaque that marked where she lay- the date of birth and death scripted neatly across the top, and then the words _‘There will always be hope amongst the chaos’_ at the bottom.  
he’d heard her say that to him many times, before. He knows she asked for it there just for his benefit. There was more to it, though- more to the saying she’d whispered to him on his bad days, when he’d been too sick to stand and too sad to care.

_ "Never give up on people, Steve,”  _ she’d say, and her fingers had always been thin, but they stroked through his hair and felt like home every single time,  _ “never give up on the goodness. Even when the world seems black, when you feel like there is nothing out there- you can always find hope. It will always be there- you just have to find it. And often it turns up where you least expect it.” _

 

Looking down at her grave- marking the spot in which one of the three people who’d ever truly loved him was laying six feet under- he really wished he could believe her.

  
  


“School’s going okay,” he said quietly, hands tapping against the stems of cheap flowers clutched in between palms. He couldn’t afford anything else. “People are alright. Got some good new friends. It’s better than I thought it was gonna go.”

A bird called out a morning song over in the trees to the side of him, and he smiled fondly. At least mom would be happy here. It was peaceful.

“I miss you,” he said softly, and it had been six months, but every time he came down here he still goddamn cried- he didn’t know how he was ever going to look at the concrete slab that marked his mom’s grave and not feel the grief well up so deep and profound inside him- “I miss you so much, ma.”

The grounds were silent, and it was deafening. Steve shut his eyes and brushed a hand over his cheeks, swatting away the droplets gruffly. He wanted, more than anything else in the world, to just be able to hear his mom’s voice. Once more. Wanted to hear the happiness she always carried with her, even through her illness, even through her trouble. She’d never stopped sounding happy.

 

But it was gone, now. There was no going back.

  
  


He sighed. The heaviness in his chest felt more prominent than ever- he wondered if it would ever stop. Maybe not. Probably not.

He crouched low and lay the flowers next to the headstone. His fingers brushed the stone- cold to the touch. So unlike his mother.  
Nothing was the same any more, though.

  
  
  
  


_____

  
  
  


It was a month in at his new school when Steve realised he still only knew about ten new names. 

  
  


There was Sam, but he didn’t really count, because Steve had been introduced to him a few weeks before he even came to Shield High. Clint and Natasha, obviously- and Bruce, who he’d met a week ago for about five minutes before the haphazard boy thought of something and rushed off without another word. Thor, who stopped by briefly to ask the whereabouts of his brother and then challenge Clint to an arm wrestling competition as he always did, apparently. Steve had been surprised by that one, actually- Sam had said Thor usually hung out with Tony and that crowd, but Natasha had informed Steve that Sam had a weird obsession with trying to group the whole school into cliques when in reality, people drifted in and out. Thor was one of them. There was also Jan and Carol- two girls who Steve only knew through Natasha- but they seemed nice, and they’d smiled at him when they’d met briefly in the corridor, so fuck it, Steve was counting it.  
Then there was Tony. He was a name that had stuck too, for some reason- not that they were friends- they’d had one conversation and then not spoken since, but still. Steve figured if he remembered it, it counted.

But yeah. That made- what- seven? Seven new people. A month in and he only knew seven new people, what the fuck was that? It was disgraceful. He could never tell Bucky or Peggy that- they’d never stop laughing.

  
  


“I cannot believe,” Bucky wheezed, clutching Steve’s shoulder as his face scrunched up and he laughed loudly, “that you have really only made seven new friends since starting. I refuse to believe that. No. I’m sorry.”

“Steve, even I think you’re a little more likeable than that, and I’ve known you for years,” Peggy told him gently, wiping the streaked mascara off her bottom lashes and using the other hand to pat his cheek.

“I’m not joking!” Steve groaned, letting his head drop into his hands, “I am genuinely so terrible at making friends. I can’t. I don’t know- I don’t know how, you’re all I’ve had for my whole life and this is just- it’s just so _ hard.” _

There was a short silence, Bucky’s laughter petering out a little. Great. What a way to throw cold water over everyone’s head- talk about his depressing inner monologue in front of them. He opened his mouth tiredly, apology already on his lips, but Peggy got in first.

“What you need to do is networking, Steve.”

Bucky was looking at him solemnly when Steve turned his head to face him, and he could feel Peggy nodding along with her own words on his other side. His own face twisted incredulously. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It _means,”_ Peggy waved a hand vaguely, “you have to get out there! Hang out with people when they invite you places. Engage in conversation. Throw yourself into new situations! You are a free spirit, Steve, you are a child in the midst of the best years of your life! Go to… parties and stuff. Do kids still do that?”

“You are a kid,” Bucky told her, “I’m sure you can answer that one.”

“Well, it’s been so many months since anyone even fucking invited me to one I’ve forgotten about whether or not they even exist-”

“Supportive as I am for your social crisis, we’re talking about mine right now,” Steve mumbled into his hands, and there was another round of back-patting from his two idiot friends, an automatic response to his trouble by that point. “How exactly am I supposed to get myself invited to these things?”

The vague sensation of shrugging on either side of him. “Look… available?” Bucky tried.

Steve lifted his head and looked at both of them. “You haven’t got a fucking clue to how to make friends either, do you?” He asked, and immediately both Bucky and Peggy shook their heads and made noises of apology.

His head fell back into his hands again. “Great,” he bit, “absolutely fucking typical.”

  
  


They changed subject after that, what with Peggy demanding they eat their feelings with appropriate Ben & Jerry's foodstuffs, but Steve didn’t stop thinking about it.  
Seven friends. Well- not even _ friends _ . Seven names he knew and who knew him- that was a bit of a kick in the face if he ever felt one. Was he really that unmemorable?

It was just another one of those moments where he wished for his mom more than anything. School was _hard-_ everything seemed so fucking hard right now. Steve was fifteen, and yet suddenly he was having to navigate this whole new world on his own after she’d passed away. It had been all he could do to be able to wrangle a set of foster parents in New York so he could stay close to Bucky and Peggy- and grateful as he was to Sam’s mom and dad for being the ones to sign up for it, it still wasn’t….

 

It wasn’t his mom. 

 

She’d always known what to do. Always had a stupid inspirational quote like the one now carved into her gravestone. In times of trouble, they’d have baked cookies together and then eaten them all in one night whilst Steve sat and felt sorry for himself and his mom looked sympathetic by his side. He missed her so much it was like a physical pain in his chest whenever he thought about it. Made him want to scream and cry and punch things.  
But he’d done his fair share of that in the first few months. The whole damn shebang- Bucky hadn’t been kidding about checking for suicidal tendencies- but at least now he’d sort of… mellowed out. He didn’t want to say Given Up, exactly, but-

 

Yeah.

It was hard. That was all.

  
  
  


“Steve?” Bucky asked quietly, and Steve blinked a few times, noticing that the room was dark now, and Peggy had fallen asleep on the arm of the couch as they watched the repeats of Friends on the TV.

 

Sometimes that happened. Time just… passed.

“Are you good?” Bucky asked, hand curled around Steve’s arm.

Steve smiled. “Yeah,” he lied easily, naturally, “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

  
  
  


The next day, he woke up feeling much the same. A little empty, a little detached. He got up and went through the motions like he always did; made sure his teeth were brushed, banged on the door and told Sam to stop hogging the bathroom, thanked Mr Wilson for just… being Mr Wilson, he supposed- and then left the house.

Natasha was waiting for him by the gates that morning, which was unusual, but not worrying. She was slightly sporadic in her actions- Steve figured she liked to keep herself unpredictable.

“I’m not going to ask how your friend called Bucky Barnes got my number, because I feel like it will involve an intensely weak password for your phone and about a billion security risks that I’m not willing to deal with right now- but he told me I needed to look out for you today, so-” she shrugged a little and handed him a bar of chocolate. It was a bit soft, and Steve was lactose intolerant, but he smiled anyway.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, looking up at her. She curled an arm through his and walked them both up the steps. That was a great thing about Natasha- people got out of the way when she walked through a crowd. It was probably the face- the combination of strikingly gorgeous and utterly murderous was always one to strike fear into the souls of even the toughest teenagers.

Yeah. Natasha was kind of awesome.

 

“Hey, Rogers!”

He frowned, turning his head to the source of the noise, and found it belonged to none other than Troy or Chad or Jace or whatever the guy was called who’d grabbed his bag earlier that week. He seemed slightly nervous as he walked over to Steve and Natasha. His buddy wasn’t with him, but Steve’s was, which was certainly comforting.  
“What do you want?” He asked bluntly. He wasn’t in the mood for the bullshit this morning.

“No, I just… man, I wanted to- uh- apologise,” he looked around awkwardly, eyes flitting around, like he was looking for someone, “I didn’t mean to be an asshole, I didn’t know you were friends with… yeah. I’m just- we cool?”

Steve ducked his chin a little, trying to follow the broken fragments of what Troy/Chad/Jace had been trying to say. “You’re apologising?”

The kid nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah- look, let me make it up. There’s a party at my friend’s tonight- a tonne of people are going. You should come. Starts at eight, down by The Revel, you know it? Anyway- invitation’s there. Just…” he bit his lip and looked around once more, before starting to back off again, “tell Tony we’re cool, yeah?”

Steve frowned even harder. “Tony?”  He was about to continue and ask what the fuck the guy was talking about, but felt a sharp prod from Nat’s elbow and subtle shake of the head, so he wisely changed his track. “I… yeah. Sure.”

The guy nodded, obviously relieved as he backed away and walked off quickly. Steve was just left there, more than a little confused. “What in the fuck?” He asked Natasha after a few moments.

Natasha sighed. “Useful as having Tony Stark as your backer may be, Steve, I really wouldn’t recommend getting too cl-”

“Yes, I know, everyone’s fucking told me that, don’t worry,” Steve cut her off, irritated by the same old warning, “I’m just wondering why the fuck that happened, and what Tony Goddamn Stark has to do with it.”

Natasha looked at him in amusement for a moment. “You really don’t know what that was, do you?”

“No?”

She sighed again, tugging him in closer and beginning to walk them up the steps once more. Her smile was fond. “You seem to just inspire the best in people, Steven,” she said cryptically, before letting go of his arm to fiddle in her bag, “you’re not actually going to go to that party though, are you?”

Steve shrugged non-committedly. Apparently, that wasn’t as much of a negative response as what Natasha was looking for, because after she’d found her hairband she flicked him over the back of the head. “Steve, parties with those sort of people in them are not good parties. Don’t even bother, honestly.”

Steve hummed again. She side-eyed him suspiciously, but eventually must have just put it down to his funny mood because she let it drop. Steve was grateful- he didn’t fancy a lecture right then. Hell- he probably wouldn’t even go… but wasn’t this sort of thing just what Bucky and Peggy had been talking to him about last night? Networking, right? It was only a night. And Steve just wanted something different, for once. A change.

 

Hell, he was only fifteen once. And the parents who were supposed to stop him were both fucking dead, he thought a little hysterically. 

 

Why the fuck not?

  
  
  
  


_____

  
  
  
  


See, this was Why The Fuck Not.

  
  
  


The venue was loud and bright. There was no-one he knew. He already felt like he had a headache, and he’d been there twenty minutes.  
God, why did anyone enjoy this?

“Don’t think, drink!” Someone said (screamed) to his left, shoving a large cup of...something, in his hand and then laughing as she stumbled away. Was his discomfort really that obvious? Probably.

Sighing, he drained the contents in one and then crumpled the cup, dropping it on the floor. He was fucking tiny, so hopefully that would work pretty fast and loosen him up. He just wanted to have fun- he hadn’t felt that sensation in a very long time.

God, he sounded like a seventy-year-old.

The bass dropped on one of the songs playing, and Steve stared at everyone dumbly as they started jumping. He really couldn’t imagine jumping right now. He thought he’d probably throw up.

Someone sidled up to him and laughed, and Steve turned to them, smiling awkwardly. They stuck out their hand. “I’m Joyce,” she shouted, words sounding just a little more than slurred, “you’re cute. Let’s dance.”

He opened his mouth, trying to tell her he felt a bit sick, but the music drowned out his voice, and suddenly he was being dragged into the middle of the crowds before he could stop himself. As soon as he took the first step, he knew he was fucked. Whatever had been in his drink was strong- too strong for someone who’d never had more than a few sips before in his life, and he felt the world spinning out of control almost immediately.

“Uh oh,” he muttered, blinking rapidly as the girl grabbed his hands and started jumping up and down again.

 

Everything felt too bright, and he wasn’t breathing right. Asthma? No- panic attack, he thought absently. That was more likely, anyway, considering it was paired with an all-consuming, desperate desire to just get the fuck out and take a breather.

 

He tried to pull his hands away, but she was holding tight, and so he ended up yanking a little bit roughly. She let go with a grunt of annoyance, and Steve felt his own legs suddenly start moving too fast, and oh fuck- he was falling-

His head hit something soft, and when he focused back in, he realised it was a chest. “Hello!” The chest said happily, and Steve frowned, “are you well, my friend?”

“Uh,” Steve pushed away jerkily, and he stumbled to the side before the chest grew arms and caught him. Realising now that this was probably not just a hovering chest, he looked at a relative giant of a boy, long hair tied into a bun and smile bright enough to match the LED lights lining the room.  
Oh. Thor. The… the arm wrestling guy.

“I need to get out of here,” Steve said quickly, noticing his hands shake as they rested on Thor’s huge chest. God, this had all been so stupid- what was he  _ doing,  _ coming out here when he had no idea-

“Hey, hey, take a few deep breaths,” Thor said, his own hands rising up and hovering nervously by Steve’s shoulders, “my name is Thor, remember? You are… the new boy, who sits with Clint, right- yeah, that’s it- I’m going to take you to the kitchen, okay? It is a lot quieter in there. We can get you some water, yes?”

Steve nodded numbly, and then felt Thor’s hands take hold of his shoulders and steer through the crowd. He kept his head down, mortified at himself. He was such a  _ freak _ \- the entire night had been a disaster, and this was so obviously a testament to how well he was going to fit in here in this shit school-

Suddenly the continuous noise cut off into a much duller thumping, and Steve opened his eyes, which he hadn’t even been aware were closed in the first place. He was stood in a large kitchen, occupied by a handful of people, most of them making out in various corners.

Great. So they’d ignore him, then.

Thor patted his shoulder and then gestured to a chair. “Would you like to sit down?” He asked softly.

Steve just followed the order, letting his head fall between his knees as he did so. He heard the thumps of Thor’s feet fade away after a few moments, and once more the panic surged right back again- Thor was the only kind person he’d met that night, he didn’t want him to go, then he’d be all on his own again-

“Don’t panic, it’s okay,” the warm baritone spoke closely to him again, and a hand fell over his shoulder once more, “I just got you some water. Would you like it?”

Steve swallowed through the dryness in his mouth. “Yes, please.”

Thor placed it delicately on the table next to him, and Steve could feel him hovering in worry just behind him. He wanted to assure him that it was okay, that this was tragically regular occurrence and he was not in fact dying- but the words just wouldn’t come and his throat felt too tight. It was bad enough that he’d had to be escorted from the party by Thor- but now he wasn’t even polite enough to say anything to the guy.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck, this was so fucking ridiculous-

 

_ “Steve?” _

  
  


His head jerked up, wide eyes searching automatically for the new voice.

 

In one of the corners he’d previously passed off as unimportant make-out spots, none other than Tony Goddamn Fucking Stark turned his back around, staring over his shoulder and toward Steve incredulously. 

  
  


Steve just stared back. The fact wasn’t really processing right in his brain- Stark was there,  _ again, _ and looking right at Steve,  _ again _ \- the guy had absolutely no idea what that gaze felt like when placed under it, honestly, it made Steve want to shiver. His eyes were so _ blue.  _

The girl sat on the counter in front of Tony looked a little offended by the sudden interruption, and she patted his arm impatiently, but Tony just frowned harder and brushed her off, not taking his eyes off Steve. “Yeah, alright, just go back to the party, babe, I’ll meet you back out there.”

“No you won’t,” the girl said angrily, before jumping off the counter with a huff. She shot daggers at Steve as she stormed out past him, and he just stared right back at her, completely bewildered.

“Do you know this guy?” Thor asked Tony, who just looked at him with a confused face, “I found him in the middle of the dancefloor, and he seemed pretty distressed-”

“Oh, God,” Steve whispered, utterly mortified. Why was he here? Why was Tony Stark looking down at him as he tried to hold back a panic attack because he couldn’t even handle being in the same room as more than ten people consecutively? What did he think he was _ doing? _

“I...Yeah- I’ve got this, Thor, you go back in if you want.”

The hand came back to his shoulder, impossibly light. “Are you okay, Steve? Or would you rather I stayed?”

He breathed through his nose and kept his face covered. Eventually, he just forced out the words “I’m fine. Thank you.”

Thor patted him again. “Look after him, Tony,” he said solemnly, before retreating.

There was a short silence, and then suddenly three loud claps rang through the air. Steve jumped, looking up for a second, but Tony didn’t seem to be directing them at him. “Everyone- get out. Go find another room- this one is occupied,” he announced, and the couples broke off, looking disgruntled by the interruption. However, they all slinked off after a few seconds, leaving Steve and Tony alone in the vast kitchen.

“It is  _ weird  _ how much power you have,” Steve laughed shakily, still not looking up. He felt dizzy.

“Perks of being a billionaire,” Tony answered, and then Steve heard quiet footfalls coming closer and shut his eyes once more, rubbing a hand across closed eyelids.

“So, my question is- what are you doing down here, Steve Rogers?” And the voice was at a weird angle; below him, despite the fact he was the one sat on the chair, and he opened his eyes despite himself and then jumped when he saw Tony, sat cross-legged on the floor next to his feet.

“I…” Steve began, trying to think of something.  _ Same thing as you are. Just wanted a change of scene. Networking. _

“I don’t know.” He laughed, and then groaned a little, “I really don’t… I’m sorry-”

“Don’t apologise,” Tony looked at him, frown creasing his forehead once more, which he seemed to do a surprising amount when looking at Steve, “you don’t belong here, though, that’s for sure.”

He felt the sinking in his stomach. It was really that obvious, then- he didn’t fit in, didn’t fit in Goddamn anywhere anymore-

“Not like that,” Tony said softly, waving a hand in dismissal. His smile was light as he said “Steve Rogers, hate to break it to you, but you are simply far too genuine for a dump like this. These places are reserved for assholes only. Hence,” he waved at himself, and then around the now empty room.

Steve frowned. “You don’t even know me.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “I don’t have to know you to know you, you know”

Steve tried to process that in his head, but it didn’t quite work out. Tony laughed quietly, grabbing the glass of water from the table and then wafting it under Steve’s nose. “It does help. And then once that’s down you, you should get gone, alright? You shouldn’t be here.”

The words didn’t even sound cruel- just slightly concerned. Like Tony cared. Which didn’t make any fucking sense, considering Tony was Tony Stark and Steve was just.... Steve. Sad little orphan kid who didn’t know what the fuck he was doing.

“Do you think anyone in this joint knows what the fuck they’re doing?” Tony asked him, which was scary, because it meant either he could read minds or Steve had just said the last bit out loud. “Steve, this is just a conglomeration of kids trying to act like adults. Trying to pretend as if they’re big. It’s not even a good party- shit music.” He stopped, running a hand through his hair, and Steve couldn’t help but watch the movement. “Look- you got a ride home?”

Steve shrugged. He… had arranged a cab. But at some point between entering the place and getting to this kitchen, it seemed he no longer had any money in his jacket. “I’ll work something out.”

Tony made a noise. “Like hell you will,” he said, uncrossing his legs and jumping to his feet. “My bike’s outside. You just gotta promise not to fall off- that would be beneficial to absolutely nobody-”

“Tony, you don’t… what are you doing,” Steve asked weakly, gripping on his hair, “why are you… how do you even know my name? Why are you being nice?”

Tony stopped then. Steve, being vaguely aware that what he’d just said was probably offensive, only sighed in resignation. He was fucking everything up. “I didn’t m-”

“How do you know  _ my  _ name?” Tony asked in reply, and then turned away for a second, in order to grab his jacket on the side of the counter and throw it on.

Steve cursed quietly. “You don’t have t-”

Tony shook his head and gave him an unimpressed look, and Steve clamped up quickly. The embarrassment and shakes were mingling together, creating some sort of terrible mutant emotion that felt like it was clawing at him from the inside out. He just wanted to go home.

Another hand on his shoulder- this one not as soft as Thor’s, but with the added bonus of a stroking motion, so Steve just shut his eyes and let it ground him. “You got a friend you wanna call?”

Steve shook his head. “They’d flip their shit if they knew what I was doing.”

  
  


Tony’s thumb stopped moving, just for a second. “Lucky,” he murmured quietly, and Steve didn’t quite know what that meant, so he just remained silent. 

  
  


“We gotta get out through that room,” Tony declared after the silence got too long, jerking a thumb over to the source of the pumping music and loud bangs, “you gonna be good?”

“Yes,” Steve bit irritably. He was an idiot, maybe, but he wasn’t a fucking child- he could handle a bit of noise.

“I’m not saying you can’t,” Tony raised his hands, and oh fuck, Steve had thought out loud again, “I’m saying you just had a pretty severe panic attack, and usually when those hit  _ me, _ I’d rather eat my own leg than go walking through a place like that.”

Steve paused, momentarily thrown. “ _ You _ get panic attacks?” he asked, slightly incredulous.

Again, Tony was silent for a few seconds before grinning. It was staged, even Steve could see that. “When there isn’t alcohol within five feet of me at any given time, yes. Now come along, Rogers- gotta get you home to momma, ‘kay-”

“Don’t say that,” Steve snapped, harsh and completely unfairly, Tony had done nothing but help him all night and Steve had just been a dick in return, “please. Don’t.”

There was silence, and then a quiet “Sure. Sorry. Let’s just…”  
Tony gestured to the door, opening it with a swing. He grabbed Steve by the arm and turned his head one last time, quirking a smile and cocking his head again. The hair fell back into his eyes, when he did that. “I could clear the whole room out if I clapped my hands five times, if you really want.”

Steve huffed, amused despite himself. “Show off.”

“That’s me,” Tony shrugged, and then pulled Steve forward.

 

The crowds were just as massive as they had been; but Tony kept ahold of his arm and navigated them easily through. People automatically seemed to move out of the way for him- it was crazy, and Steve still couldn’t understand why he was getting looked after by the most popular guy in school. Tony was helping him- genuinely- for whatever reason, when he could have just left him with Thor and continued to kiss every inch of lipstick off that pretty girl. It just… didn’t make any sense. That wasn’t how it was supposed to work. Those sort of guys… guys like Tony, who smoked and drank and got thrown in jail- they were the ones he met in the corridors when they tripped him over or beat him up against the lockers between periods, not-

  
  


Oh. He’d been so lost in thought, he hadn’t even noticed they’d stepped out the exit. That was… a relief.

  
  


Tony slackened his grip as the doors shut behind them and he jumped down the steps, onto the sidewalk where his bike was sat waiting for him at the curb. It must have cost more than Steve had ever owned in his life, he thought as he looked down from the top of the steps.

Tony leaned over, humming absently and tugging the helmet of the lock. Turning around, he glanced up at Steve, still stood still a few feet away at the entrance. “You coming?” He raised an eyebrow, looking amused once more.

Steve opened and shut his mouth a few times, before jerkily nodding and beginning to move his feet of his own accord. When he got to the foot of the steps, Tony chucked the helmet over to him and then climbed on the front. “You ever ridden before?”

One shake of the head. Tony shrugged. “Don’t worry- just hold on and enjoy the ride, sweetheart. I won’t crash, scout's honor.”

Steve swallowed, and Tony turned to him properly, frown marking his forehead for the dozenth time. He sighed. “Steve, seriously- if you’d rather I just call you a cab, that’s f-”

Jamming the helmet on as quickly as possible, Steve let his answer be shown. He didn’t care- he really didn’t, all he wanted to do was get out of there, and Tony  _ was _ offering- “I’m pretty sure you don’t get to use scout’s honour if you’re not a scout.”

Tony smiled, turning back to face forward so his profile was pointed toward Steve. “I could be a scout.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Well joke’s on you, ‘cause I’m telling the truth. I was totally a scout.”

Steve climbed clumsily onto the back seat, still feeling a little dizzy from the mix of alcohol and nerves. He really hoped he didn’t fall off. That would suck. “How long for?” He asked through the helmet, hands going around the grab rail in front of him.

He noticed then, that Tony wasn’t actually wearing a helmet. Must only have been carrying one around with him. Steve was about to say something, but then Tony revved the engine and kicked off the brake, shrugging as he did so.  
“Three days,” he answered, and then pressed down on the accelerate.

Steve felt the pull immediately; hands curling even tighter around the grab rail. Fuck, he’d never ridden on a motorbike before. This was… certainly new. And slightly terrifying.

He took a sharp inhale through the helmet and tried to calm his heart a little. This was the weirdest night of his life- if someone had told him he’d be hitching rides on the back of Tony Stark’s motorbike after meeting him at a party, he would have just asked what they were smoking. And yet here they were.

Tony veered left, and Steve yelped. The grab rail felt too fragile, too easy to let go of- and before he knew it, his hands had clutched tightly around Tony’s waist instead, cold fingers grabbing the fabric of Tony’s jacket like his life depended on it.  
In front of him, Tony was laughing again. “Wondered how long that would take,” he called out over the wind. Steve was thankful the helmet covered another spill of crimson over his cheeks- Goddamn pale skin, it gave everything away.

“I feel like we should introduce ourselves properly,” Steve yelled, not entirely sure where his brain-to-mouth filter had disappeared off to all of a sudden. “I’m Steve Rogers. Hi.”

He felt the vibrations through his fingers as evidence for Tony’s next laugh. “Nice to make your acquaintance, Steve Rogers,” he said, amusement obvious in his voice, “I’m Tony. Now do you mind telling me where you live?”

Oh. Fuck, yeah, that was probably important. Steve shot off the first part of his old address in Brooklyn, before cutting off jerkily as he remembered that that wasn’t his home any more. That place was probably stripped bare and put up for sale for some random stranger to poke and prod and look in, now. Ha.  
Tony remained silent as Steve backtracked and told him Sam’s, but he felt the nod at the end of his sentence which showed he’d got it. They were silent for the rest of the journey; Steve fighting the sudden urge to rest his head against Tony’s back and just go to sleep. He was really tired. Hadn’t slept well, those past few weeks.

 

Eventually- what could have been five minutes or an hour later, Steve wasn’t too sure- Tony pulled up at the foot of Sam’s house and cut the engine. His foot stepped out, kicking the brake into place, and slid off gracefully. Steve attempted to follow, but the helmet obstructed his view and the seat was actually surprisingly high up, which meant he lost his footing about half way down. Yelping, he fell sideways, just grateful for the fact that he still had the helmet on for when he inevitably hit the tarmac-

“Whoah whoah,-” Something grabbed his waist and looped around, holding him in place, diagonally tilted across the sidewalk, “you’re really not good with your drink, are you?”

Steve hurried to regain his footing, pushing off away from Tony’s arm as the other boy just looked at him, that goddamn half-smile still curling around his mouth, “I think I’m just accident prone,” he bit out irritably. Tony had probably been laughing at him inwardly the entire damn night- not that Steve could even blame him, he’d acted like a fucking idiot.

He put his hands up to his head and started to attempt the task of taking off the helmet. Meanwhile, Tony leaned back against his bike and continued to watch him, pulling out another cigarette from God only knows where and tucking it in his mouth.

“Fuck,” Steve swore, blindly trying to to undo the buckles around his chin as the helmet covered his eyes. This was the most embarrassing thing in the whole world, and Steve was never going to leave his room ever again-

“Here, just- Oh, Lord,  just come here, Steve Rogers,” Tony said, and yeah, Steve could definitely hear the laughter in his voice now; the dry way in which he said Steve’s full name, and Jesus Fuck, Steve couldn’t even feel angry, Tony’s voice was just so lovely-

A pair of hands pulled Steve’s away from the buckles he was working on, and in only a few seconds, he felt the release as Tony undid them. After that, he tugged it off Steve’s head entirely; leaving Steve blinking in the streetlight. His hair probably looked as if he’d been dragged across a football field.

Tony was centimetres away from him. His eyes were shining, and he was obviously holding back a smile. Steve glared sullenly back at him, really hoping that the red across his face and down his neck wasn’t visible.

Tony pinched the cigarette between his two fingers and turned his head, blowing out to the side of Steve. “You’re certainly an interesting one, Steve Rogers,” he stated, rocking back on his heels.

Steve made a face, finally looking down at the sidewalk. He made a humming noise, and after a few seconds of silence, jerked his head over to the house. “I should probably…”

“You should,” Tony nodded, cigarette going back to his mouth. Steve took a step forward, but was stopped by a hand around his arm once again- soft and non threatening, but certainly there all the same.  
“I’m sure you’ve been warned by your friends, but I’m gonna throw in my own two cents here,” Tony said quietly, looking down toward him with his stupidly blue eyes, serious and a little bit sadder than they had been a few seconds ago. “They’re right. You don’t want to be hanging out in the same circles as me. You don’t belong caught up in that, alright?”

Steve pulled away, irritated. It seemed everyone had decided they knew what was best for him, all of a sudden. Even, apparently, Tony fucking Stark. “You don’t have a clue about me.”

“I know you’re not okay,” Tony told him with a shrug and a half-smile, “you think I can’t see it? But believe me- this isn’t the way to deal with it.”

“Sounds a little hypocritical if you ask me,” Steve folded his arms. Tony just shrugged, taking another long drag and blowing out.

“Oh, totally is,” he admitted, “I’m literally the poster-boy for bad decision-making and unhealthy lifestyle choice. But it doesn’t mean I can’t try and stop you anyway. You’re…” his nose wrinkled, like he was trying to find the right word, and despite the aura Tony tended to give off, the action itself was rather- well- adorable. “You’re too good for that. Still got some good friends. Romanov’s loyal- terrifying, but loyal. Heard Wilson’s a great guy, too. Just stick with that. You’ll get through.”

“Touched as I am that you seem to care so much, you’re not actually my mother,” Steve snapped, rolling his eyes and turning around. “I don’t need life advice from Tony Stark, thanks.”

Behind him, there was a short bark of laughter. “Fair,” he heard the muttered reply, and then the revving of an engine once more as Tony got back on his bike

 

Steve turned, just as Tony dropped his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it with the toe of his boot.  
“Stay away from me, Steve Rogers,” was the last thing Steve heard him say before he turned back out into the road and sped off through the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I wanted to write a bit of Tony's non-okayness (Because It's me ofc I wanna do that lmao) So I thought I'd write this fill. Cue Tony being a bit of an idiot with substance abuse, icecream not-really-but-maybe-sort-of-dates, and of course, Steve being...well, Steve.  
> Don't worry- they'll stop skirting around one another eventually. I promise.

Okay. So that had probably been the stupidest decision of his life.

 

Well. Maybe stupidest decision of the month was more fitting. But it was definitely up there in the top 5 most embarrassing things he’d ever willingly participated in.  
_God,_ his head hurt.

He rolled out of bed with a dull groan and then lay sprawled on the floor for a few seconds, tangled up in blankets. He fucking hated mornings. There was honestly not one good thing about them.

At least it was a Saturday. Thank the fucking _Lord_ it was a Saturday.

He happily drifted back into unconsciousness for a moment, letting his head fall against the floor that he’d been wishing to swallow him whole a few hours ago. It was comfy there- or at least, comfier than sitting up and rolling back into bed.

 

He was never going to be able to look Tony Stark in the eye ever again.

 

Except… he goddamn had to. He couldn’t just leave it like that- Tony had totally saved his ass last night, and Steve hadn’t even thanked him. That was just unacceptable- his mom had raised him better than that, dammit.

So that meant he was probably going to have to just suck it up and face Tony at some point, then. How completely terrible.

 

Of course, just as Steve was getting nicely fitted into his spiral of self loathing, Sam chose that moment to burst open the door with absolutely no regard for people with hangovers at all. Steve groaned louder, cursing a string of truly foul words as he curled tightly in on himself- but the idiot didn’t seem to care much, damn him.

“Now, we all know I am not one to believe the rumours,” Sam began with, which was a) a total fucking lie- Sam was a gossip and the world knew it- and b) not a very good way to start a sentence. Steve figured that his sense of embarrassment was about to get a whole lot worse. “But basically… I was on the phone to Nat this morning, who’d just been on a jog with Jan who had slept over at Carol’s who had been at some party last night, and _she_ said that she’d seen you leaving the place with none other than Tony Stark. Which, naturally, inspired a lot of confusion and questioning on my part.”

“Obviously,” Steve ground out from the floor, curling a little further in on himself.

“So, Rogers, what’s the truth?” Sam folded his arms and leaned against the wall. “Did you really? After all my wise words? Not that I’m like, judging you or anything,” Sam hurried to mention, holding up his hands in surrender, “like, you do you, man, but… Tony? Really? I told you his rep- he’s seventeen and you’re fifteen-“

“Sixteen in a few weeks, come on,” Steve argued on autopilot, “and Tony’s only just had his birthday. It’s like, a year difference.”

Sam’s mouth dropped open. “So you _actually did-“_

“No!” Steve shut his eyes and sat up off the floor, despite the pain it caused him, “no, I did not sleep with Tony fucking Stark. Yes, I am aware of how everything around him explodes spontaneously into flames or whatever the fuck you all seem to think happens. And no, he did not force, bribe or otherwise coerce me into following him.”

Steve thought back- back to the soft smile, the glittering eyes, the way Tony had laughed and then offered to get Steve a cab if he felt uncomfortable- and wondered why people always assumed so badly of him.

“Hey, dude, I’m sorry,” Sam looked a little surprised, shaking his head slowly as he stared at Steve, “I didn’t mean to… I just know what he’s like, that’s all.”

 _Have you ever actually spoken to him yourself,_ Steve wanted to say- but he knew it would come out wrong; debating something whilst hungover was never a good idea. Sam meant well. “It’s alright,” Steve told him instead, running a hand down his face, “listen, I was just…somewhere I shouldn’t have been. I didn’t like it. Tony took me home.”

Sam frowned, and Steve saw his lips moving as he mouthed the words back at him, trying to process it. “So you didn’t sleep with him?”

“No.”

“He just…took you home.”

“Yes.”

“-Because you needed help?”

“Yep.”

Sam looked vaguely surprised, but after a few moments he just shook his head and blinked a few times. “Well, are you alright now?” He asked, and Steve couldn’t help but smile- always looking out for him, was Sam.    
“I’m okay, buddy,” he looked up and grinned, rolling his eyes fondly, “seriously.”

Sam paused, eyes narrowing slightly as he looked over Steve. But it seemed he believed him- at least a little bit- because in the end he just sighed and walked forward, throwing himself on Steve’s bed dramatically. “Well good, because Nat and Clint are coming over today for a study session, and I’m pretty sure they’re bringing friends. So you can either stay up here and suffer alone, or you can pool your suffering into a larger area and share it with a bunch of other people.”

“Sounds like fun,” Steve said drily, poking Sam’s foot when it got too close to his face, “hey- can I invite some of my friends over here? Just two. But I want you guys to meet, and they’re both free today, so-“

“Hell yeah! Bucky Barnes and Peggy Carter, right? You talked about them before- bring ‘em over, yeah, it’ll be good,” Sam clapped his hands excitedly and then apologised when Steve winced, “but tell them to bring all their revision notes and shit. We mean business. We’re not going to get distracted- this test is important.”

 

 

They ended up getting distracted.

 

 

It was inevitable, really- six people, two of them meeting everyone for the first time- it was bound to cause studying problems. And also the fact that Clint brought a crate of beer to ‘help with their concentration’.  
Yeah. It didn’t help with anyone’s concentration.

“You’re not allowed to drink, though, mister,” Clint flicked Steve on the nose and shook his head, “you’re too young.”

“Oh for God’s sake, just because I’m the youngest out of you doesn’t mean-“

“-you’re still fifteen. That’s like a baby.”

Steve made a face. “You’re two months older than me, Barton.”

He paused. Shrugged. “Well, kids do grow up very fast. Anyway, you’re still hungover from last night, so you’ll probably only throw up. I don’t wanna be the one responsible for that m-“

“Whoah whoah whoah whoah whoah-“ Bucky raised his hands, frown marking his face as he turned to Steve, “you were drinking last night?”

Steve felt his face flush, and he rolled his eyes. Bucky had always been protective, but it seemed since his mom had passed away he’d decided to take on the role instead, fussing over him like he was a kid. “Yes, Bucky- if you hadn’t noticed, I do actually have this thing they like to call ‘freedom of will’-“

“Were you with someone?” Peggy asked seriously, folding her arms and then shooting him an unimpressed look when he groaned at her, “you’ve never had more than a few sips before in your life Steve- excuse us for being concerned. Did you have someone with you?”

“Look, it wasn’t-“

“he had _Tony Stark_ looking after him,” Clint blurted, shooting Steve a smug look.

Both Bucky and Peggy spasmed in shock, eyebrows shooting to their hairlines in sync with one another. Steve just sighed, letting his head drop into his hands. “Not like that,” he mumbled, “shut your face Clint.”

Bucky looked grim. “Steve- why the fuck were you going out drinking with Tony Stark? Did he pressure you? What-“

“Why is everyone so convinced he’s so fucking awful, Jesus Christ!” Steve burst, hands flying through the air in irritation, “you don’t even know him, Buck! None of you do! Not even me!  All I’ve got on him is that he’s apparently the type of guy to leave a party hours early to drive my stupid ass home! So for God’s sake, could you all just quit it?”

There was a short silence, broken only by some awkward shuffling on Sam’s part. Bucky and Peggy seemed rather taken aback; shooting one another short looks of confusion.

“Sorry,” Bucky said in the end, “I’m just… he seemed… but whatever. If you trust him.”

Steve glared, but after a moment it softened a little. Bucky was only trying to look out for him in his own stupid way. “I don’t even know him that well, Bucky- he was just kind to me. That’s all.”

“Well, kind’s good enough for me,” Peggy shrugged, leaning back on the couch and poking Steve with her foot, “just be careful, alright?”

“Oh, believe me, if he’s got Tony Stark backing him, he doesn’t even need to be,” Natasha smiled sweetly, and Steve exhaled in despair, staring at the ceiling and wondering how the boy had managed to get himself involved in half the conversations Steve was having these days without even being personally present for them.

 

 

 

 

 _____

 

 

 

It was three more days until Steve saw Tony next.

 

He was pretty sure the guy just hadn’t bothered turning up for school since the week had begun, because otherwise they would have inexplicably managed to run into each other as they always seemed to. But seeing as there had been no mysterious appearances or unfortunate collisions, Steve figured it was because Tony simply wasn’t there.

Funny how used to him he’d gotten, even though they’d barely held more than two conversations.

 

Steve frowned a little as his backpack fell off his skinny shoulders in the same way it always did when he wasn’t holding it. His hands were currently full of bags of food and supplies that Sam’s mom had sent him out to get from the mall, and so it made things rather difficult to navigate. Luckily the complex was only a few minutes away from school, and that made catching the bus with a shit ton of shopping a hell of a lot easier.

Turning around and dropping a few of the bags, he hitched his backpack up and then continued on his way. It made his back ache like shit, but it was the least he could do for Mrs Wilson. And anyway- she’d asked for baking stuff, which inevitably meant cookies were on the way. And Steve _loved_ cookies. It was worth a bit of backache.

 

As his feet dragged across the shiny floors, he noticed someone sat on the bench a few yards ahead of him. He had his head bent low, elbows resting on his open knees, and even from the distance, he seemed exhausted, simply in the way he was holding himself. The slump of his spine. The way his palms were pressed into the sockets of his eyes.

Steve recognised the jacket before he even recognised the guy wearing it. Although, to be fair, he did have his head bowed. It would only have taken a flash of those blue eyes and Steve would have known instantly.

Slowly, he walked further forward. The bags crinkled conspicuously as he moved, and he became unerringly aware of it. Tony always seemed to make something in him nervous. Like his mind could instinctively sense the chaos there.   
But Tony didn’t look particularly chaotic at that moment. He just seemed sad. Steve recognised it from a mile away- he’d seen it in the reflection often enough, come on.

Licking his lips and steeling himself, he stopped walking just as he reached the bench, and then slowly sat down next to Tony. The bags made a big noise; crinkling and nearly spilling over Tony’s feet, and Steve winced. The whole mystery and smoothness of the situation was being ruined by his groceries.

Tony stopped moving for a moment, and then glanced to his left where Steve was sat a little awkwardly. There was a moment in which Tony just stared, but it was broken a second later when he turned his head back to the front and showed his profile to Steve instead. Steve could have sworn there was something like a smile twitching around his mouth. “It seems we meet again. Steve Rogers,” he said, the amusement evident in his voice. No doubt he was thinking back to their last conversation. “I’m not entirely sure you’re not stalking me at this point.”

Steve blushed. He wasn’t. He really wasn’t- they were just very coincidental occurrences. Good luck, Steve supposed.  
Not that he was feeling lucky about constantly seeing Tony. Because he wasn’t. He was…He was just indifferent. Blasé. Casual.

“I- no,” Steve began, pulling a face, “you might be stalking _me_ , for all I know.”

“I was sat here first.”

“But I’ve been in the mall for an hour.”

“Well I’ve been in for two. Ergo, _you_ are the stalker, _I_ am the stalked.”

Steve smiled and shook his head. Tony just raised an eyebrow. He was very good at not showing more than just little traces of his emotions.

They were silent for a few rather awkward moments, until Steve blurted “thank you. I wanted to… but then you weren’t at school and… yeah. For Saturday. It was real good of you to take me home. I’m sorry for ruining you night.”

Tony looked at him wryly, tongue brushing over his bottom lip absently as he flicked his hair back out of his eyes and then turned to face Steve a little more obviously. “What makes you think my night was ruined? I love ferrying confrontational blondes around New York when they’re too drunk to stand on their own two feet.”

Steve swallowed, feeling the shame curl in his gut. Yeah, okay, so obviously Tony thought he was a complete idiot. Which was fair. He’d acted like one. “I-“

“No, sorry, I didn’t mean it… It was fine, honestly,” Tony waved him off, “honestly, genuine excuses to leave parties are great. You did me a favour.”

The chatter around them masked Steve’s hum of confusion, but he wondered all the same why Tony bothered going at all if he waited for an excuse to come along every time. “Well, happy to help, I guess. Tell Thor I said thanks too. He’s a good guy to have in your corner.”

Tony laughed, then, and it looked fond. He was obviously close to the other boy. “Yeah, that’s Thor. Utterly fucking terrifying if you get on the wrong side of him, but very comforting if you’re a friend. Saved my ass a few times, that’s for sure.”

Steve watched him a little curiously as Tony looked down at his shoes and then huffed out what sounded like a self-deprecating laugh. When he looked up and turned to face Steve again, Steve caught a flash of dark around his opposite cheekbone. “Did you get in a fight?” He asked before he could stop himself.

Immediately, the smile slipped off Tony’s face and a hand went automatically to his cheek. The look in his eyes was blank. “You should see the other guy,” he muttered, although  it sounded like he was just running the words on autopilot.

There was a long silence again. Tony wasn’t looking at him, and Steve had a feeling that there was more to that mark than just a fist in the face. There was an awful lot more to Tony that the surface, though. If Steve wanted to sort through it all, he wouldn’t even be too sure where to begin.

“We should get icecream,” he declared, whilst the other half of his brain groaned in despair and cringed wildly. “I feel like I owe you at least an icecream. A thank-you-for-not-abandoning-me-at-a-stranger’s-party icecream.”

 

Okay. Okay, so it was time for the ground to swallow him up entirely and suffocate him, if only to stop him speaking.  
He was asking Tony Stark to get ice cream with him.   
Tony Stark. _Ice cream._   
With him.

 

The quiet that time was long. Steve stared very, very intently at the wall on the other side. He refused to look at Tony, whose eyes had fixed themselves to the side of his face.

“…Ice cream,” Tony said slowly, “with…me.”

“Yep,” Steve choked, because if he was going to die, he would die in the pit he had dug himself into with pride.

Another silence. Steve moved his foot and accidentally sent one of the grocery bags tumbling. He shut his eyes and pursed his lips, ignoring it. Tony was still staring.

And then he laughed.

Steve wanted to _die._ He just couldn’t stop acting like a fool in front of that stupid, beautiful fucking boy. He was going to take his shopping bags and hit himself over the head with them, Goddamn it all to hell-

 

“Sure.”

 

He jerked, eyes flying open and looking at Tony in confusion. The boy was… he was _smiling._ A proper smile that actually showed his teeth and made his lips go a bit crooked.

Steve had made Tony smile. And, apparently, agree to go out for ice cream.

“Really?” He asked, blinking rapidly.

Tony shrugged, hand flexing by his side. “I haven’t eaten in a while. Why not?”

Steve gaped a little, completely shocked that his idea had even been considered. He wasn’t even sure why he’d said it- he was lactose fucking intolerant, for God’s sake, he didn’t _eat_ the stuff- “I… okay then. We can… there’s one at the end of the mall, right? Let’s go there.”

Tony nodded, getting slowly to his feet. His jacket sleeves were pulled up slightly as he stretched, and Steve watched twin purple marks flash under the material for a second before being covered once more.  
He was pretty sure kids didn’t fight like that.

“Come on then, Steve Rogers,” Tony looked down at him, leaning over to grab two of Steve’s bags and hoist them up, “I want ice cream.”

 

Steve, feeling like his brain had just short circuited, followed.

 

 

 

 

 _____

 

 

 

“So where have you been these past few days?” Steve asked, licking at the rather grim-tasting soy-milk icecream and trying not to pull a face.

 

Tony paused, and then shrugged. His own cone was already nearly gone- he must have been hungry. “Wasn’t in the mood to go to school. Been wandering around, y’know.”

Steve didn’t really know. They lived wildly different lives. “My mom would’a killed me if I’d missed school like that.”

Tony laughed, waggling a finger. “Ah, see, my trick is- just don’t go home. Can’t yell at you if you’re not there.”

Steve’s eyebrows went high. “You haven’t been home in four days?” He asked incredulously.

Again, he got a vague shrug. Tony took another lick of his icecream. “Howar- my Dad’s leaving for work tonight, so I’ll go back then. It’s no big deal.”

Steve just raised an eyebrow, leaning back and letting his fingers tap out against the tabletop. He wanted to say something- if he’d been living in his own home, he would’ve opened up the invitation for Tony to stay there if he needed somewhere. His mom had always, always offered the house to anyone who was in trouble- it had gotten Bucky out of a fair few tight spots in his time.   
But he didn’t live with his mom. And he couldn’t extend an invitation to a place that didn’t even belong to his name.

“You think very loudly, you know,” Tony declared, his tongue poking out and licking off a stray fleck of cream from the corner of his lip.

Steve laughed. “And you think so quietly I can’t ever decide what’s going on.”

The smile on Tony’s face dimmed a little. “Good,” he said after a beat, looking away from Steve, “Keeps you on your toes, doesn’t it?”

“I’d say it’s more difficult for you to keep up than it is for me,” Steve cocked his head and smiled a little, and Tony glanced up when he caught the look. His lip curled- not amused, as such, but maybe a little bit pleased.   
“Since when did you know all about me?” He asked quietly, shoulders jumping a little.

Steve felt himself blushing. Again. “I- I mean- you’re not… you’re just…”

Tony was still smiling. Steve just goddamn _knew_ he was getting redder and redder. Goddamn it, he hated his pale skin sometimes.  "The fact that you try so hard to keep everything under wraps... well, that on its own says quite a lot about you, don't you think?" He said eventually, picking his words with care so that he didn't accidentally offend Tony.

But the boy just looked mildly surprised. He shrugged after his initial pause, looking out of the window. "I guess you're right," came his softer response.   
They were both quiet again; Steve watching Tony in concern as the boy seemed to drift off a little bit- but a moment later he was back in the room, shooting a smile Steve's way. "Anyway, Rogers- tell me why on earth you bought a horrible vegan icecream when you quite obviously do not enjoy a single taste of it."

 

They kept talking until the icecream dripped down their fingers and melted completely. Steve found himself caught up in Tony so easily; in his stories and his voice, and the way his hands moved when he spoke. He looked so different to how he’d been when Steve found him an hour ago. Some of the life had come back to his eyes. It was stupid, but Steve felt proud. He wanted to make Tony smile more. Properly. He had a beautiful smile.

 

The bill was delivered, and Steve took a moment to gawp incredulously at the price (10 dollars for two scoops, seriously?) before putting down the money with a sigh. Tony watched him do it, eyebrow raised curiously. “Hey, so Steve, what are you doing there?”

Steve paused. “Uh- paying?”

For the first time since meeting him, he watched Tony Stark sputter and look genuinely shocked. “What? Don’t be stupid, Steve, it’s on me.”

“What, no, I was the one who invited you,” Steve argued, batting Tony’s hand away before he could extend it forward, “this is my treat, alright?”

“Steve, _I’m rich-“_

“And I’m blond, so what? It’s the principal,” and with that, Steve snatched at the bill and took out his wallet quickly, shooting Tony wary looks as he did so, lest he attempt to take the bill from him in a surprise attack.

But Tony was just sat there. He looked…. Well, Steve wasn’t too sure what that look meant. Like confusion and- and a strange sort of happiness, all at once.

“What?” Steve asked, exasperated.

Tony shook his head a little, head turning to the floor. “I just… don’t ever think I have met someone quite like you, Steve Rogers,” he declared with a confused voice, looking upward at Steve through those stupid long lashes.

Steve swallowed. He hated how he always reacted so easily to the things Tony said about him. He _knew_ it didn’t mean anything. He knew it- it wasn’t even a big fucking deal, and yet here he was, undoubtedly fucking blushing for the eight millionth time-

“Honestly, that might actually be my favourite thing about you,” Tony laughed, focusing in on his cheeks as Steve just slapped a hand over them in embarrassment, “you blush so easily and _it is adorable-“_

“Oh, shut up,” Steve shoved him sideways and then huffed irritably when Tony barely even flinched, “I am not adorable. I will kick your ass, alright? I will. I don’t care.”

“Disagree on point one, totally in agreement of point two,” Tony slid off the stool at the same time Steve did, looking down at him, “Mr ‘I saw someone drowning some kid’s homework so I decided to start a fight with them despite the fact they were both on the football team and I am five-foot nothing’.”

Steve rolled his eyes, picking up all the groceries. “Yeah, well, I’m not exactly known for my self preservation instincts.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Tony laughed, and Steve figured when they left each other’s company, Tony probably would.

 

They walked out of the doors in companionable silence; a faint smile still on Tony’s face. Steve was probably more pleased than he should have been that he helped put that there. 

 

“Hey, Tony?” Steve said, turning to him. Tony already seemed a little further away once more; aware that Steve had to leave, and knowing that he’d probably end up wandering around on his own again. Jesus- the guy didn’t even _go home,_ hadn’t for four days, and that made Steve’s heart twist painfully. Tony at least deserved somewhere safe to stay. He did not even _want_ to know where he must have been sleeping since the week began.

Tony turned to him, eyebrows raised in question.

“Be safe, alright?” Was all Steve said in the end, sighing a little, “you… just look after yourself.”

Tony frowned again, confused- like he didn’t understand the angle Steve was coming from. Maybe Steve had overstepped. Maybe Tony just wasn’t used to people being that genuine with him.

In the end, though, Tony just cracked a little smile. His right hand curled subconsciously around his left wrist. “Life’s too short for that, Rogers,” He said, but the tone of his voice just didn’t match up to the words that he spoke, “anyway- I need to get going. Party down at Hammer’s place in a bit. He’s a piece of shit, but he always gets the good stuff.” Tony shrugged, spinning on his heel and throwing up a hand in farewell.

Steve watched him begin to wander off, pause, and then spin right back around for a second. “Do you-“ he began- and then cut himself off with a shake of his head and began to walk forward instead. He dug around in the pocket of his jacket for a few seconds as he walked back over, until he was pretty much standing right in Steve’s space without even realising, gaze too focused on the pen he’d pulled out.

Without a word, Tony wound his fingers around Steve’s bony elbow and pulled it up gently. Steve, eyes wide, watched him in bewilderment and attempted not to shiver from the touch. Tony’s fingers were very warm.

“For the next time your self preservation instincts fail you and you require some assistance,” Tony grinned, scrawling out his number across Steve’s arm- then he winked and added “although, if you’re coming to me, I’m guessing they’ve deserted you completely anyway.”

Steve tried to reply something witty, but his brain chose that moment to freeze up and leave him stood there like an idiot, staring blankly at the ink on his forearm. Tony just looked down at him and laughed again, taking a step backward. “Oh, you really are adorable,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I’m not- I’m not _adorable,_ for God’s sake,“ Steve argued, realising too late that he was pouting and that it was only succeeding to make Tony laugh harder. “I’m… I’m…. well maybe _you’re_ adorable! So- so yeah!”

Oh, how he hated himself. Oh, such hatred.

But Tony was obviously trying to keep a lid on his own amusement; Steve could see him pursing his lips and hunching up his shoulders as he shook his head and looked to the side. He began walking backward leisurely, the unlaced shoe to his left making Steve wince at the hazard. Although it would probably be weird to bring that up. Tony Stark lived by his own rules- he tied his shoelaces for no man.

What was he even thinking? Why did that infuriating, stupid boy manage to turn his brain to mush so effectively?

 

“I’ll see you around, Steve Rogers,” Tony waved, turning around once again and beginning to walk off, “try to stay out of trouble.”

“I stay well away from trouble, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Steve called out to his turned back. Tony shot one last grin over his shoulder at Steve, and his stupid hair fell into his stupid eyes as his head moved. Steve really wished he didn’t find that quite as hot as he did.

“Trouble just tends to search me out,” Steve finished with a sigh, watching Tony Stark wander around the corner and out of sight.  
If only he were out of mind, too.

 

 

 

 

 _____

 

 

 

The ten dollars had miraculously found its way back into Steve’s pocket when he shoved his hand in there a few hours later.

Tony must have slipped it in when Steve hadn’t been focusing. Which was, admittedly, nine tenths of the entire afternoon together.  
Goddamn it.

 

 _  
**Hey,** _ Steve texted that evening, ** _just saying- the offer of a bailout works both ways. Text me if you need me, alright?_**

**_P.S you’re taking back that ten bucks if I have to force it down your throat_ ** _._

_______

 

When Steve pulled up to school the next day, Tony was actually there.

 

He was high as a kite.

 

Steve couldn’t say he’d ever experienced it before, no- but he knew what it looked like, and it looked like Tony. If the stumbling around didn’t give it away immediately, then the red-rimmed eyes and faded smile stuck to his face sure did. Tony was gone- completely fucking gone.

It made Steve one hell of a lot sadder than it really should have done.

 

He sighed and looked away, searching for Clint or maybe Natasha. They waited around for him sometimes. But the parking lot seemed woefully empty, save for Tony and his group of friends. He could see one or two of them staring at him, but he didn’t look up; just hitched his bag up a little higher and began the walk to school. No doubt Tony would follow a few hours later. Or maybe he wasn’t going to come in at all- just meet his friends, grab some more of whatever they were taking and then wander off into New York on his own again-

He didn’t know why he cared that much. Maybe it was the fact that Steve couldn’t quite look at the Tony he was seeing up ahead of him and correlate it to the one who’d eaten ice cream with him the day before. But whatever the reason, it was enough to make him keep his distance.

He didn’t quite manage to avoid Tony’s eye, though. Drawn like a magnet, he did it all the fucking time- couldn’t help himself even if he wanted to. His gaze locked into Tony’s, just for a moment, and when Tony registered him, he smiled just that little bit brighter. Waved slowly. He looked… not blissed out exactly, but something close. Unbothered by the world, maybe. Steve could only think about how horribly vulnerable Tony must be, whenever he was like that.

Steve shook his head a little, smiling sadly back and then turning away. Tony wasn’t even his friend, really. It wasn’t his job to worry. Tony obviously knew his own mind; knew what he was doing far better than Steve did.

 

The last thing Steve saw as he flicked his head back was one of Tony’s friends slipping an arm around his waist and pulling him close, laughing loudly. Tony let his head fall into their shoulder and said something that made them laugh harder, and then both of them veered off sideways, falling into the nearby car door and clutching one another, hysterical with amusement.

Steve swallowed and turned back around. Not his problem. Not his problem. Not his problem.

 

 

 

 

 _____

 

 

 

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _If u try and give me that money back I'm gonna just give u more 2 spite u_

 

Steve looked at the text as inconspicuously as he could from his lap in History class, brows pulled together in a frown. He hadn't actually expected Tony to answer at all- much less at a seemingly random time in the middle of class.

 

**Steve Rogers:** _How is giving me money spiteful_

 

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Well u seem 2 dislike it so goddarn much I figured I could use it as leverage_

 

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _I actually love money. I just love sticking to common manners more._

 

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Ah, apple pie freedom an' the good ol' American way, right? I knew it. You're sooo easy 2 read._

 

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _How high are you right now_

 

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Scale of 1 to 10?_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Maybe a four. Three if I'm being generous._

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _I was worse this morning._

 

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _I know. I saw you._

 

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _???_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Okay, I'll level with you, I thought that part was a dream._

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Huh._

 

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _are you back at home?_

 

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Uhh I'm at school? Learning? Valuable education, etc. etc. Come on, Rogers, what do you take me for?_

 

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _A guy who's off his face on drugs before first period._

 

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Touche_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _In my defence, it's been a shitty week. Totally not my fault._

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Well. Maybe a little bit my fault._

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _But still_

 

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Tony, why did you decide to randomly text me in the middle of lesson?_

 

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Why did Y O U decide to answer me in th-_

 

"Steve, you have been making strange noises at your crotch for over three minutes now, and I am beginning to get concerned," his teacher said from over his shoulder, and Steve yelped in surprise, looking up from the text he was reading and fumbling the off-switch on his phone.

Miss Hill stared down at him, holding out a hand. "You know phones aren't allowed in class. Hand it over."

"What? No, Miss, I'll put it away-"

"Phone, Steve," she said sharply, flexing her fingers. Goddamn it. Steve groaned, putting his phone in her stupid hand and then letting his head fall onto the desk.   
That was all Tony's fault. Fucking Tony Stark, with his fucking eyes and his fucking hands and his fucking smile and God, he was a mess, but he smiled at Steve so genuinely and he could be so kind-

Fucking Tony Stark.

 

 

 

 

_____

 

 

 

 

Steve poked sullenly at the shitty salad in front of him and then tugged Clint's hat off his head when he sat down, just because.

Clint just stared at the hat on the table blankly. Steve figured he must not have had his caffeine fix yet. "Well," Clint began, "someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

"Hmmf," Steve let his cheek rest in his hand and speared another lettuce leaf. Phone removed, shitty History grade and food that tasted like ass. Yeah, he was in a bad mood, so sue him, "if you piss me off today I'm removing your shins."

"I don't know what the context is, but I hear Clint's shins are going to be removed and I'd just like to say I'm in favour," Sam slid into the seat next to Steve and opened up his lunch. When he looked at Steve, he wordlessly handed over a cookie. Not even willing to politely argue, Steve just mumbled his thanks and then shoved it all in his mouth at once.

"Aren't you guys supposed to be like, my friends or something?" Clint muttered, picking at his sandwich whilst his free hand absently crafted some sort of catapult, "I'm sure that was in the contract I signed."

Sam sighed. "We didn't sign a contract, Clint."

There was a pause, and Clint's hands stopped moving. "Huh," he said, shrugging, "then it looks like I'm involved in some sort of prostitution ring, then."

Steve was about to ask how the fuck one could get those two things mixed up, but there was a sudden upsurge in movement and noise in the cafeteria, and he just ended up huffing instead. Fucking kids. They were so loud. Slightest sign of conflict and they were swarming like vultures, Jesus.

"What happened to piss you off so much, then?" Clint turned to Steve curiously, and Steve just huffed again.   
"Phone got taken by Miss Hill," he said mutinously, "turns out I know shockingly little about the history of medicine, and now I'm sat eating rabbit food because I didn't bring enough money for an actual lunch. School sucks."

Clint nodded wisely. "I made a catapult if you want to throw food at unsuspecting kids."

Steve was almost about to take him up on that offer, but then Natasha pushed her way through the crowds and swiftly crushed the little invention down against the table. Clint, again, just stared at it in vague disappointment. "Oh."

She grabbed his hand and placed a cup of coffee in it. Clint took one second to process, and then uncapped the lid and drained it in six seconds. "Thanks Nat," he said at the end, as Steve just stared incredulously.

"is that... how is your throat..."

"He isn't going to make it past age twenty," Natasha waved a hand, "don't worry about it. We've all accepted it."

"it's true," Clint waved a hand over to her and shrugged again, "also, Nat, new info- I think I'm a prostitute."

Natasha took a second. Blinked once. "Hm," she said evenly, "I don't quite know how to answer that one."

So she didn't. Simply turned to her food and began eating, nonplussed about the fact her best friend had just said he was involved in prostitution. Steve found their relationship to be confusing on the good days, but he chose not to comment. It wouldn't get him anywhere. He was at least certain they weren't fucking or anything- not if the way Bucky and Nat had been ogling eachother over the past week had been anything to go by, anyway. Honestly, Steve was kind of regretting inviting Bucky and Peggy over in the first place. They'd made firm friends with the rest of the guys, which only ever meant trouble for Steve. Now all his friends were in cahoots. Cahooting about Steve and how best to wrap the bubblewrap around him, no fucking doubt. Bucky and Peggy were the worst helicopter parents he'd ever goddamn known.

"Oh, by the way," Natasha looked up for a moment, waving to Steve, "your boyfriend is about to start a fight in the corridors. Again."

Steve frowned. Then the understanding dawned, and he sat up a little straighter. "Tony?" 

She nodded. "Currently in the middle of a very heated debate with Zeke."

"What- I thought they got on?" Sam piped up, frowning.

"Who the fuck in their right mind gets on with Zeke?" Clint looked at Sam, entirely unimpressed, "no, you fool- he and Tony hate eachother. Have done for years- are you blind?"

Clint and Sam began bickering at the table, but Steve was already pushing himself away and beginning to try and navigate himself through the crowds. Natasha watched him go with a raised eyebrow; he saw her out of the corner of his eye, but didn't acknowledge it. He wasn't really sure what his goal was- maybe he just wanted to see. Maybe he was curious.

The exit out of the cafeteria was bottlenecked- even more so than usual- undoubtedly because of what was happening in the corridors. Luckily, Steve was small enough to wheedle through the gaps, and found himself out in the hall in under a minute. It was full of like-minded students who wanted to get a peek of the action, but luckily due to the fact that lunch had only just begun, there weren't actually that many kids around. Relatively speaking.

He pushed his way forward, until eventually the crowd thinned, stopping in a straight line. Steve spotted Tony at once; whole body tense and rigid as he yelled at the other boy standing a few feet away. Steve noticed that strangely, a third boy was waiting at the sidelines. He was young- probably an eighth grader at the most- and he was staring between the boys nervously, biting his lip as the yells were traded.

"You're a piece of shit, Zeke," Tony growled, stepping forward, "and I fucking warned you about pissing me off."

"Oh, what are you gonna fucking do?" The other guy- Zeke- taunted, "you gonna hit me? Or just throw daddy's money at me and hope I go away? Contrary to popular belief, Stark, you don't actually own the school, and I sure as shit am not afraid of you."

"You think I'm fucking around?" Tony took another step forward and the crowd followed, desperate for a fight, "stay away. That's all I'm gonna say. If I hear another story from him about y-"

"oh, believe me- next time I'll just make sure he keeps his idiot mouth shut-"

Steve watched Tony begin to step forward, raising his hand in fury- but before he even knew it, Steve was there, planting his own body in front of Tony and bracing against the chest that knocked into him in an attempt to reach the other guy. Tony's hand curled quickly around the fabric of Steve's shirt, ready to just shove him off without thinking about it, but Steve held firm. He was good at that. "Tony, seriously, you're only gonna get into more shit if you start a fight with him here," Steve spoke quickly up at Tony, ignoring the confused whispers of the growing crowd around him, "if he's done something real bad, just wait until after school, at least. But you've already got fifty cameras on you. They see you taking the first swing and no amount of lawyers are gonna be able to save you from the court case."

Tony's head jerked down to him, the harsh snarl on his face mellowing into one of bewilderment as he registered Steve's face. "What-"

"just trust me," Steve said quietly, shaking his head, "let this one go. For now, anyway."

Tony paused, mouth opening and shutting a few times. He looked back up, over to Zeke who was still braced and ready- then over to the kid by the corner with his wide eyes and messy hair.   
"I swear, Stane, you better stay far away from me. If I hear you do that again, I'll make sure you regret it."

Zeke just laughed, but the way he folded his arms defensively and backed up a few steps showed the truth. He quite obviously didn't fancy the thought of that. "The day I'll be scared of some worthless, drugged-up whore is the day hell freezes over," he spat, before turning on his heel and shoving through the crowd. 

Of course, seeing that no fight was to be had, the people quickly began to disperse, most of them shooting curious glances at Steve as they went. He was still holding on to the material of Tony's jacket, pressed up pretty damn close in what had been his attempt at stopping the rampage. Although after the parting words he'd heard from the asshole, Steve was surprisingly ready to go a few rounds with him on his fucking own. 

Tony was breathing heavily. Obviously now the drugs had worn off a little and he was in the middle of a pretty severe comedown. He looked like shit- tired eyes and slightly pale face, but with cheeks flushed an angry red. He turned his head down and stared at Steve for a few moments, probably debating whether or not to start telling at him instead- but in the end he just pushed off turned on his heel.

Steve thought that was it- that Tony was just going to walk away without a word- but instead he watched as the boy veered to the left, going over to the smaller kid who'd been hanging around on the sidelines.

He frowned, stepping forward warily. He couldn't hear what they were saying aside from vague murmurs, but he saw the boy nodding slightly frantically and Tony holding onto his skinny little forearm as he spoke. He bent down just a touch, eyes looking at the boy's face for a moment before nodding, obviously satisfied with whatever he saw. His hand rose and ruffled his hair. "Okay, get lost, kid-and you walk your ass home this evening, alright? Don't worry about him."

Steve's frown grew as he caught the tail-end of the words. What had they been talking about? The kid seemed pleased, nodding gratefully and then stumbling back down the corridor on shaky legs, and Steve watched Tony watch him with a look that could only really be described as fondness on his face.

He cleared his throat as he stepped up to Tony's side, and Tony turned to him. "So," Steve asked, eyes sticking on the kid as he slowly got lost in the crowds, "what was that about?"

Tony paused. He opened his mouth and then shut it again a second later. "Zeke's an ass," he said in the end, paired with an uncaring shrug, "and it was a while since I got in a fight."

Steve raised his eyebrows. Even he could tell Tony was lying, that time. His words hadn't just been confrontational. They'd been defensive. Defensive of someone else- probably the kid, if the last part of their conversation together had been anything to go by. "What's his name?" He asked in the end.

"I just said, he's Z-"

"No- the kid."

Steve watched as Tony's face softened a fraction. He huffed and shook his head. "Uh- Peter. Peter Parker. Little asshole if I ever saw one. But... he's a good kid."

"And I take it Zeke was fucking around with him, then?" Steve pushed, and the way Tony's lip curled in distaste gave away the truth instantly.

"Yeah," he muttered after a long silence, looking away. "Peter's smart, but he's also very good at being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Zeke was hanging around with his friends after school a week ago- they spotted him when he was coming out of a club. Obviously terrified the fucking kid- and I heard from him this morning that they've been keeping him for hours after school to do all their homework for them. Fucking  _seniors-"_  Tony hitched his bag up, the anger returning as he recalled his story, "-seniors asking an eight grader to do all their homework? There were  _six_  of them. Peter was having to stay for hours, when he should have been getting home to help his Aunt run their cafe. So he was getting into shit at home, too, 'cause his Aunt was getting angry and grounding him, and... yeah. It was just a mess," Tony shook his head again, jaw clenched. "Idiot should have just told me sooner, Jesus," he muttered to himself.

Steve, having listened to the whole story, nodded solemnly. "I'm betting good money they won't be doing that again, though," he added helpfully, and Tony laughed sharply.

"Long as I'm here they won't. I'll probably just walk him home after science cl-" he broke off, eyes widening a fraction. Steve looked at him curiously. Tony had been about to say science club? _Tony Stark_  voluntarily went to science club?   
"Ignore that," he blurted, "just-"

"I didn't know you liked science," Steve said, surprised, "you do science club? Is that how you met Peter?"

"I do not go to that shitty thing, oh my God," but Tony was blushing, actually _blushing_ as he shook his head and turned around, walking off quickly- but Steve followed, trying to hide his smile as he followed Tony down the corridor. "You know," he began, "liking things is not actually the most shameful thing in the world."

"Oh, believe me Steve, you do not know my world," Tony told him with a small little laugh. "That fact does not leave this conversation, alright?"

Steve pulled a face, but he nodded. "Do all your science friends keep their mouths shut too?"

Tony clenched his jaw, knocking a knuckle against each locker he passed absently. "Is any of this really any of your business, Steve? I thought I told you to stay away from me."

Steve frowned, about to snap something back- but Tony just shut his eyes and palmed at his head weakly. Even his hair looked a little droopier. "Fucking hate the comedown," he muttered to himself, taking in a slightly shaking breath of air.

Steve couldn't help feel sorry for him. Despite the fact he'd brought it on himself, he could imagine the feeling of whatever Tony had taken leaving his system was not a pleasant one. 

"You need to sit down," Steve said, folding his arms. Tony stepped walking and turned around, looking at him in amusement.  
"You need to leave," was the blunt reply he received, "this doesn't concern you."

"Actually, I do feel pretty damn concerned," Steve told him, eyeing him up and down, "you look ready to keel over. You're fucking lucky I pulled you out of that fight- like this, he probably would have kicked your ass."

Tony laughed again. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"It's called the truth."

"Well then, Steve Rogers, you don't know half as much about me as you think you do, then," Tony stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the lockers, turning his head sideways to look at Steve through red-rimmed eyes. Steve hated how he could still look so good, despite his obvious lack of sleep and schoolyard drug abuse. It was just unfair. 

"Why do you do that?" He asked suddenly, furrowing his brows, "you always call me by my full name."

That, of all the questions Steve had thrown at him, seemed to be the one to stump Tony. He stopped moving, except for his eyes which flickered a little manically around everywhere except Steve. In the end, he just shrugged and looked at his feet as they dragged back and forth across the floor. "It's... it's a nice name," he said, voice quieter than it had been before. "I don't know- it's been a while since someone introduced themselves so... properly to me before. I thought it was funny."

Steve sighed. Tony looked over at him and opened his mouth, and Steve wondered if he had been about to backtrack- but no words ended up coming out, and so the old ones stuck. Yeah- Steve figured he'd probably been a source of amusement for Tony Stark since the very first meeting. Everything he had done since that had been slightly odd and most definitely not someone of Tony's status would ever engage in. Ice cream, Jesus- it even  _sounded_  stupid.

 

"Well- I should probably go back," Steve pushed an unenthusiastic hand back in the direction of the cafeteria, and he watched Tony look horribly, awfully sad for a moment, before the usual face slipped back on and he just shrugged indifferently.

"I'll go find my friends, too," Tony said, "they're probably wondering where I am."

 

Steve nodded, and wondered if Tony really believed that. 


	3. Chapter 3

The last period of Friday finally rolled around, and with it came Steve’s usual post-week exhaustion. School had always been difficult on him and his body- he needed the weekend’s rest more than he needed air, some months- and this one had seemed as if it had taken double the time to come for some reason, which had been fun. The past five days hadn’t been the best on record, either. Sleep refused to come easy, and everything felt far too disorganised in his head- the weight inside him feeling more prominent than ever.

His therapist said it was common, all those things. A warped sense of time. Periods of disassociation. Days when his heaviness was almost unbearable and all he wanted to do with himself was curl in a ball and just _stop,_ just for a second. She said he’d grow out of it in a while.  
Whatever- he was just glad he was done for the week.

 

The bus ride and walk home was uneventful as always, and when he trundled through the door and dropped his bags, he was greeted by the off-key singing of Sam’s dad from the kitchen.  
“Afternoon, Steve!” The man called out, “you’re back early!”

“Yeah, I was kinda drained,” Steve wandered into the kitchen and smelt something tomatoey hit him instantly. It was good- homely. “Thought I might just go have a rest.”

Paul nodded understandingly. “School takes it outta you, buddy, don’t worry- I’ll keep it down for you. Got some nice lasagna cooking for tonight, though, so you’ll want to be awake for that.”

Steve laughed, nodding. “You can count on it, Mr Wilson.”

There was a deep sigh, and then Steve watched Paul move his hand to the dial on the radio and turn it down a few notches. He brought his other hand out and placed it on Steve’s shoulder warmly. “How many times do I have to ask you to call me by my first name?”

He looked a little sheepish. “Sorry. Force of habit, I suppose.”

Paul looked down fondly, but there was a small crease in his forehead as he took Steve in. “How’ve you been doing, kid?” He asked after a moment, leaning against the counter.

Steve wondered how bad he must look to illicit a _‘how are you holding up, champ?’_ sort of talk. Probably not his best, that was for sure.  
He shrugged, looking away. “Yeah- yeah, I’m doing alright,” he answered simply. His hands fiddled with the button on his shirt, and the frayed edges bristled under his fingers. He really needed a new one.

Paul nodded. The smile on his face let Steve know he didn’t believe it for a second, but had decided not to push. “Well, if ever you need anything-“

“I’ll make sure to let you know,” Steve finished, even though that part was a lie too. He’d rather burn his favourite pencils than put any more of his problems on Mr and Mrs Wilson’s shoulders. They had done far too much for him already.

Leaning over the table, he snagged an apple out of the fruit bowl and shot a smile over to Paul, who returned it fondly. “Sam’ll be home shortly,” he called out as Steve turned, “I’ll tell him not to worry you.”

“Great, thank you!” Steve said cheerfully, waving as he bounced down the corridor. The smile was still sticking to his face- months and months of practice keeping it fixed there through sheer muscle memory alone. Always smiling, that was Steve. Always happy, positive. All his friends knew that.

He let his hands tap distractedly around the skin of the apple, hearing the _pit pit pit_ of his fingers as they hit the surface. He’d used to cut them into precise slices, when he was little. Or at least, his mom had. A rather random gesture, yes, but she’d always made sure he got four equal quarters with the sharpest knife in the cupboard that she’d never let him use himself. For a few months, he hadn’t wanted the skin at all, and made her cut that off too. She looked at him like he was mad, but done it all the same.

Of course, he’d only been a young child then. Seven, maybe. Now he didn’t cut his apples into squares or take the skin off, even if he still preferred it that way. Mom wasn’t even there to do it for him any more. His mom was dead, actually. It was funny how that hit him sometimes- completely out of the blue. She's dead. She's not coming back.

 

The apple was still in his hands, and his nails had made puncture marks in the skin.

 

He looked down at it, realising he’d moved to the bed. Calmly, he dropped the apple on his bedside table and then crossed his legs.  
_I am not okay at all,_ he thought absently, as the first tear slipped down his cheek.

 

 

 

 

 _____

 

 

 

 

The next morning was better. Not quite as oppressive. It was a relief, honestly- sometimes those episodes lasted for days.

 

Sam was already at the table as Steve sat down, and he was going to town on a bowl of cereal as his hand tapped quickly against the screen of his phone. “Mornin’” he greeted through a mouthful of Lucky Charms, “did you know Bucky and Natasha went on a date last night?”

Steve raised his eyebrows. The twenty unopened texts from Bucky probably read something along those lines, then. “Can’t say I did, but I’m not surprised. They’ve been gazing at one another since the day they were introduced.”

“I thought that was just Natasha plotting his murder, to be fair,” Sam said, “she does that sometimes. We’ve all gotten used to it.”

Steve chuckled, opening the texts on his own phone which mainly read along the lines of _‘help’_ and _‘I’m going to die’_ and ‘ _she’s so pretty I want to mash my face into a wall how am I suppsd to dATe HER!’_

The last one was sent a few hours later and said the word ‘ _success’_ and nothing else, so Steve figured Bucky had done okay for himself despite Steve’s absence. He sent an apology text off and hoped Bucky wouldn’t rip his head off for not answering last night when he’d been… occupied. “We’re all going over to Nat’s this afternoon, aren’t we?” He checked in with Sam.

The boy nodded. “She’s bringing Carol and her boyfriend James over, too. You up for socialising?”

Sam’s tone was casual, but his eyes looked serious as they met with Steve’s. Maybe Steve wasn’t as subtle as he’d liked to think.  
“Sure,” Steve shrugged indifferently, poking at his own bowl of granola, “Carol seems nice. And I’m sure her guy is too.”

Sam nodded, and then changed the topic over to the match results from yesterday. Steve allowed it to wash over him, grateful of Sam’s presence that morning. Grateful of Sam as a whole, really- the boy and his family were a Godsend.

As he stood up to put his bowl in the sink, he looked down just in time to see Sam’s hand wrapping around his bony elbow.  
“if you ever need someone,” Sam said quietly, a smile on his face, “you know where I am, yeah?”

Steve paused, feeling Sam’s own offer fall into a very similar category to his Dad’s the previous evening. The whole family had done far too much for him already. Steve wasn’t going to bother them with more.

“Yeah,” Steve nodded, holding Sam’s gaze firmly, “yeah, I do.”

 

 

 

 

 _____

 

 

 

 

“Whoever is poking my ass, I am touched at your interest, but really not looking for anything like that right now,” Clint declared suddenly, right in the middle of a particularly tense moment of Oceans Eleven.

Steve snorted and Natasha sighed. “That was me, and much as I appreciate you in a platonic fashion, I’m not lying when I say ‘not if you were the last person on Earth’,” she shot back, muttering “I’ve seen you naked far too many times to be able to willingly go through it again, thank you very much.”

Clint stuck out his tongue at her. “Why were you poking me in the ass then, pray tell?”

She threw a bunch of twenties in his face. “You’re on pizza run,” she said simply, snuggling down further into Bucky’s arms.

She was one of those people who never continued to surprise Steve. Her house was in the rougher end of Manhattan, and yet she seemed to always have a surplus supply of money to hand. And for such a small apartment, the place was very well decorated. He figured Natasha’s whole family liked to play their cards close to their chests. Maybe they were all spies. It would explain a lot, he supposed.

“Uh, no I’m not,” Clint threw the money back at her, “I went last week. We’re on rota- it’s Steve’s turn if my memory serves correctly.”

“Yeah, but I’m betting Steve doesn’t know where to go,” Carol added from her spot on the floor, before looking up to Clint with a smile, “plus we actually like him.”

Clint opened his mouth, obviously readying for a rant, so Steve just threw up his hands before it could escalate. “It’s fine, I don’t mind going.”

Natasha looked at him. “I don’t want you to get lost with my pizzas,” she said with a frown.

“You’ve got navigation on your phone, Steve, right?” James asked him, raising his eyebrows upward and tilting his head back to look at Steve, “I’m sure he’ll be fine, guys.”

“If he snuffs it on the way, I’ve fitted him with a GPS tracker,” Peggy told them, watching George Clooney on the screen with unwavering intensity, “we can get to him before the pizza gets cold.”

“Love you too, Peggs,” Steve muttered, moving slowly to his feet from the couch which has been slowly swallowing him. His ass had left an imprint. “Give me the money, Nat- you all want the same as last time. Right?”

There were murmurs of agreement around the room, and after they’d all piled their orders into him, Natasha chucked the money into his hands. “Hurry up, Steven- you should be able to make it before the best scene at the end if you’re quick.”

Steve slipped on his coat and threw a goodbye their way before heading out onto the street. It was only a ten minute walk to the place, and although the evening was overcast, it wasn’t enough for Steve to waste money on a bus fare. He was a little tougher than that, thank you very much.

The streets were empty, and Steve made his way through them hurriedly, mind wandering as he went. He’d never really been in this part of town before- in fact, most of Manhattan was still foreign to him. Brooklyn, he knew like the back of his hand, but Manhattan? Like another world. He’d never really been travelling that much- mom never had the money or time to take him anywhere, and Steve hadn’t ever felt particularly inclined to go. Yeah, he’d thought about going abroad when he was older, but everyone did. It was a pipe dream for him, really- he’d never have the money to afford that in reality. Perhaps if he got rich, he’d move around some more. See the sights. He’d always wanted to visit the Grand Canyon. But until he could afford the gas to get there and back, it seemed he was stuck in New York.  
He could think of worse places to be, though. Despite initial reservations, Manhattan wasn’t so bad.

 

He looked up, checking the street name as he turned the corner, and frowned. That didn’t look familiar- Natasha had said Williams Street, not Turner.  
Fuck, he’d probably gone too far. Sighing, he turned on his heel and walked back the way he’d come, glancing up to the street names as he did so. But none of them were particularly recognisable and he frowned deeply, wondering where the hell he must have turned.

Great. Now he was going to have to call Natasha and admit that yes, actually he had gotten lost, they were all right and he should never be let out without supervision ever again.

 

Pulling out his phone with a sigh and stopping to lean against a wall, he dialled Natasha’s number and waited a few seconds, only for it to go straight through to voicemail. He was about to try Bucky’s when he remembered that none of them were going to answer- Natasha had declared a no-phone rule as soon as they’d all stepped in the door. ‘To appreciate Clooney’s work without distractions,’ she’d said.  
Pah. Fat lot of good that was now.

“Dammit,” Steve muttered. He would turn on his navigation, but data was fucking expensive and, as a result, he just… hadn’t bought any. Yes, that meant he was probably the only teenager in New York who went out without instant internet access, but he’d never really needed it. Before now, anyway.

Right. Looked like he was just going to wander around until he found somewhere familiar, then.

 

But another five minutes went by, and Steve was no closer to finding solid ground.

Then another five. He would be in the pizza place right now if he had just fucking-

 

He paused in his steps for a moment, stumbling over his feet as he caught sight of a group of kids- few years older than him, college, maybe- hanging by a parking lot in front of him. He knew instantly that they weren’t any good. Years of practice had given him a pretty decent indicator of threats like that.

His eyes narrowed, and he turned down his head. What was he wearing? Jacket- just some thing he’d bought from Target a few months ago, nothing expensive. Shoes- he looked down at the scruffy trainers and cleared them off the list. The only thing he had with him was the backpack he’d taken with him to help carry the pizzas back. Chances were they weren’t going to make a move on him anyway- they seemed otherwise occupied. But preparing for the worst was just a habit, by that point. He’d been too used to getting caught off-guard by those types of people.

He needed to find his way back. Or for one of his friends to pick up their damn phones.

The trainers under his feet didn’t make a noise and he stuck to the walls, making himself as small a target as possible as he passed them on the opposite side of the street, but one of them noticed him anyway. Steve watched their eyes snap onto him; giving him the same analytical gaze he’d just given himself a few seconds previously. Instinctively, his pace picked up. He was past them now, walking fast down the lane, and they were just kids, dammit, it wasn’t likely they were going to start-

Following him. Yep- yep, they were definitely following him now.

Fucking… great.

Steve shut his eyes for a second and curled a hand tighter around his bag. He’d been mugged three times before- they were never particularly pleasant experiences. Left him with more than a few battle scars to prove it. But he’d survived- although that had been when he’d known the area, and how to get back somewhere safe. This was foreign ground to him, now. Just to add an extra level of danger, you know? Because this wasn’t fucking unfortunate enough, obviously.  
He didn’t turn around, but he knew when they hit the street behind him. They were walking far away, trying to be inconspicuous, but he knew. He had a minute, maybe, until they just got bored and jumped him.

Pulling out his phone again, he tried Peggy’s number one last desperate time. Only for it to go straight to voicemail, of course.

Typical.

And that- his five friends were pretty much the only people he had in his contacts. After that, there were just his favourite takeouts, his therapist, and-

 

“Oh, fuck it,” Steve whispered, pressing Tony Stark’s contact number and holding it up to his ear.  
This could go under 'failed self-preservation instincts', right?

 

It beeped once, twice, three times. Then- “Steve?”

Tony. Okay- okay, so Tony had answered. Now what? What was Steve supposed to ask him? He couldn’t exactly tell the guy to come over and pick his ass up again- for starters, he didn’t even know where he was himself, and secondly, he wasn’t sure Tony would be up for going through that a second time. The first one had been stupid enough.

“Uh,” Steve’s voice was quieter than usual, and he noticed it wavering with uncertainty and, though he was loathe to admit it, fear. “You- you wouldn’t happen to know where abouts Turner street in Lower Manhattan is, would you?”

Tony was silent for a moment. “No, it’s not… why are you asking, Steve?”

“Right, no, sorry, of course you- never mind, okay, uh- right. This was stupid. Just… can you not hang up for like, a few minutes, maybe? I’m just… I just need to look like I’m talking to someone,” He said hurriedly, looking over his shoulder at the two guys walking 10 yards behind him, their hoods up and hiding their faces. The clouds were beginning to turn the streets darker.

“Steve?” Tony’s voice sounded concerned now, “Steve, what’s going on? Why are you whispering? Is something-“

“I think I’m about to get mugged, which- uh- sucks,” Steve admitted quickly, paired with a nervous laugh, “but maybe if they see me talking to someone they’ll go away, so I’m just gonna keep you on the line for as long as possible-“

“Yeah, Steve, please do that,” there was a sudden shuffling down the line, and then the sound of a fast pattering noise, like…fingers on a keyboard? “I’m gonna track your phone. I need you to keep the line open though. It’ll only take a minute.”

“Track my…” Steve repeated the words in confusion, “can you even do that?”

“With ease, yes,” Tony answered smoothly, “where are your other buddies, Steve? Why aren’t they the ones you’re calling?”

“Movie night,” Steve muttered, “switched their phones off. I was gonna get pizza. Got lost. Now I’m near fucking Turner Street and I don’t know where Turner street _is_ and-“

 

“Hey, kid.”  
Steve stopped talking, turning to face the source of the noise. In his ear, he could hear Tony yapping away, telling him to just give them what they wanted and run- but Goddamn it, Steve had a bit more pride than that. This wasn’t his money to lose.

“I don’t have anything on me,” Steve lied grimly, continuing to walk down the road, “I’m not worth that trouble you’re gonna get into.”

“You sure?” The bigger guy asked, nodding to the bag, and then the phone in his hand, “we could use anything you got, really. All of us are broke, see.”

“I’d just hand it all over, if I were you,” Steve whipped around, watching with disappointment as another guy, definitely the oldest, stepped up from the other side of the road, effectively cornering him. There was no one else on the street. Just Steve and three guys with bodies like treetrunks.

Fabulous. What a fabulous way to top off a fabulous fucking week.

“Just give them some fucking money, Steve,” Tony hissed down the line, “they probably only need enough for some weed. You got twenty on you? That’ll be more than enough for one of them.”

Steve held his head a little higher. “No,” he said to both of them.

Tony groaned down the line and started shouting a few seconds after. The three guys just smiled and stepped forward.

Following Tony’s orders, Steve didn’t hang up. Just tucked the phone calmly into his pocket and then raised his fists.

 

And that was when the punching began.

 

 

 

 

 _____

 

 

 

 

They’d taken pretty much everything.

 

The bag. The money. His phone.  
He’d even lost the silver ring he’d kept on his thumb. That one hurt the most, that was what he’d fought hardest for- but it had been three against one and all he’d gotten from it was another punch which seemed to have cracked his rib.

The whole year had been a really, really sucky year, he decided. And he also took back his previous statement- Manhattan was definitely bad. Horrible. The fucking worst.

Dammit, that had been his Mother’s ring.

 

He took a shallow breath and then winced as it sent fire through his chest. The wall he was currently sat against offered no comfort, either, and he couldn’t even call anyone to ask for help, because the bastards had his phone.

He was just sat on the street, waiting for someone to walk by.  
And it had started fucking raining five minutes ago.

 

His friends had to have started wondering where he was, by that point. He’d been half an hour, which was ten minutes late. Maybe they’d go out and look for him. Maybe they’d find him in a few hours.

For the third time, he attempted to stand. But the movement made him dizzy and nauseous, and he wasn’t sure trying to walk anywhere at that point would do any good. Knowing his luck, he’d just fall straight into the road and then get run over by a truck. Or maybe the ambulance that was coming to help him. That sure would be ironic.

He hated Manhattan.

 

In the distance, he heard the revving of an engine, and for one glorious moment he thought it might be Tony’s bike. But the sound was too low, too heavy to be that of a motorcycle. It was some sort of sports car, by the sound of it.

 

The car in question sped around the bend and turned down Steve’s road, illuminating the fast-darkening streets in white light. He raised a hand desperately, trying to wave the driver’s attention, and then sighed in pure relief as the engine cut out and the car stopped messily at the side of the road.

He squinted through the glare of the headlights as someone stepped out of the driver’s seat; not bothering to shut the door as he jogged over. His boots splashed in the puddles that had formed- and an unmistakable pair of blue eyes flashed under the streetlight as he came closer.

“Tony?” Steve said dumbly, looking over to the bright red Ferrari and then to the boy himself when he got to his knees next to Steve’s side, “Tony, how the hell did you-“

“Tracked your phone, remember?” Tony smiled at him worriedly, a rain-wet hand pressing lightly into his jaw and tilting his head. His brow creased. “Oh, Steve, what did they do to you?”

He shook his head. “I’m fine,” he muttered, “I just… I think I need to go home.”

Tony was silent. His hand was still against Steve’s face; every second spent there making him feel warmer and warmer. Eventually, Tony dropped it- and Steve would probably have made what was undoubtedly a very embarrassing noise if not for the feel of that same hand dropping to curl around his waist a second later. “Come on, Rogers,” he said, wrapping the other arm around Steve’s middle so that he pretty much encompassed Steve entirely, “let’s get you to the car.”

Wordlessly, Steve clutched the sleeves of Tony’s jacket and got to his feet, Tony pretty much doing all the work for him. Yet again, he felt a horrific sense of embarrassment and shame at having to get Tony to come clean up his messes. He felt as if he was never going to stop owing the other boy for something or another. “I’m so sorry about this,” he muttered, limping over to Tony’s car, “I really- I know what you must think of me-“

“Steve,” Tony laughed a little, stopping by the passenger seat of his car, “believe me, you do not know the half of what I think of you.”

“I could probably get a good idea,” Steve said, looking down at his feet as his hand rested against the car roof, “I’m just the stupid new kid who you keep having to pull out of trouble,” he muttered.

“I seem to recall you puling _me_ out of trouble a few days ago, Rogers,” Tony said lightly, a hand going to Steve’s shoulder and pushing down slightly, “can you get in on your own?”

Steve nodded, making his way into the car. Tony waited for him until he was properly seated, and then slid over the bonnet and into the driver’s seat. He slammed the door shut and then shook the droplets of rain out of his hair effortlessly, still managing to look like a model as he did so. The curls had gone a little flatter, and his hair was now stuck up in wild spikes, some of the moisture dripping down his face. It had been a week since the day at the Icecream parlour, and the once-purple bruise running over his cheek had become nothing more than a slightly greenish patch that somehow managed to bring out the blue of his eyes even more.  
Steve wasn’t sure why he was quite so obsessed with Tony’s eyes, but it was fast becoming a problem. It was just… the colour of them. So perfect and enrapturing. Everything about Tony was just flawless, though. Eyes, face, hair, body- all of it. Steve wanted to paint him; draw the way his hair fell into his eyes and how his cheek dimpled when he smiled. He could sit there and just look at Tony forever and through each moment, he’d find something else to fixate on. Because Tony was perfect.

 

And then there was Steve, looking like a drowned, beaten rat.  
He really loved his life, sometimes.

 

“I’m an idiot,” Steve declared, looking forward. His head was fucking throbbing.

“You actually are,” Tony nodded his head and fastened his seatbelt, “I told you to just give them the money. You would’ve fared a lot better if you had.”

Steve bit his lip and looked down at his now-bare finger. The anger was burning down inside him- that ring wasn’t _theirs._ That ring was _his,_ it was one of the few things his Mom had treasured and Steve had just gone and had it fucking stolen.  
Like an idiot.

“Hey-“ Tony’s voice dropped, turning serious, and suddenly there was a hand over his, long fingers gently attempting to unclench Steve’s fist and stop it digging into his own skin, “hey, Steve, it’s okay- we’ll get your stuff back, I promise. I’ll find them and make them give it back. I can track your phone, can’t I? It’ll be easy.”

He swallowed harshly and looked away, out of the window. “It’s fine,” he said, hearing his own voice waver dangerously, “I’ll just get the police to sort it out. You don’t have to do any more for me- you’ve already stuck your neck out for me enough as it is.”

Tony didn’t say anything, but Steve could feel the gaze burn into the side of his face once more. He got the feeling Tony was analysing him.  
“They took something important, didn’t they?” He said quietly.

Steve just nodded, holding up his empty hand. “My mom’s ring. Gave it to me in her will,” he said numbly.

Tony didn’t say anything else. Neither did Steve. Eventually, he just heard Tony start up the car and then felt the pull as they turned back into the road. “Sam’s house is-“

“We’re not going to Sam’s house,” Tony interrupted, “we’re going to the hospital.”

“What? No. No, Tony, just take me h-“

“You probably have a concussion, Steve, and God only knows what else. I’m taking you to the fucking hospital.”

“Well I’m not staying there, let me fucking tell you that,” Steve snapped, and Tony turned to him briefly, eyes sharp.

“I did not risk my fucking _ass_ stealing my Dad’s car in order for you to turn around and just keel over at home, Steve. I am taking you to the hospital, end of story.”

Steve stopped, looking around in surprise at the thing he was sat in and remembering that this wasn’t actually what Tony drove. “This is your dad’s?” He asked quietly.

Tony just nodded once, and Steve watched curiously as he swallowed and began tapping his fingers against the wheel nervously. He didn’t say anything, though.

“Look,” Steve said, shuffling around to face Tony more, “I appreciate… everything you’ve done for me, Tony, I really do. I just- I can’t go to hospital. I can’t. They _will_ make me worse- I was in them for most of my childhood, and going back to them just makes me…” he broke off, shuddering. “Please- take me to Sam’s. Bucky’s dealt with this enough times before, he’ll look after me.”

Tony clenched his jaw. “Didn’t think to look after you when you were walking around in Lower Manhattan on your fucking own though, did he?” He muttered sulkily, before sighing. He shot a look over to Steve; eyes catching on the bloody lip and cut forehead.  
“Fine- we don’t have to go to hospital,” he said eventually, and Steve smiled in relief- “but I’m taking you to my place. It’s quicker for me to get home than it would be to try and go through rush-hour traffic and back to Wilson’s.”

Steve opened his mouth, ready to argue on principal, but Tony shook his head. “Steve, if you won’t let me drive you to Goddamn hospital, you will at least let me get you somewhere with some half-decent medical supplies.”

Tony turned off, driving parallel to the queues of traffic in front of them, and Steve just looked at him in something similar to bewilderment. Even now, he still couldn’t work out why Tony was spending so much effort on him. Poor old Steve, needing help yet again, and Tony didn’t even think twice- just hopped in his old man’s car and picked him up off the sidewalk like it was no big deal.  
Steve just… wasn’t worth that much trouble. He wasn’t like Tony- he wasn’t cool and he didn’t make everyone laugh and he wasn’t popular- he was nobody.

And yet-  
There Tony was.

 

 

Fifteen minutes later, the car turned into one of the grandest driveways Steve had ever laid eyes on, and he wondered if it was too late to reconsider Tony’s offer of having him get patched up there.  
Fucking Christ, there was probably an entire hospital tucked away in there anyway. Maybe that had been the plan all along.

“Sorry,” Tony muttered, hands holding tight to the steering wheel, “I know it’s… a lot.”

Steve shook his head, and then hissed when it sent a jolt of pain blaring behind his temples. “Don’t apologise,” he muttered, palms putting pressure on his closed eyes, “apologising is my job.”

 

They both made their way out of the garage; Tony shutting the door and taking a minute to meticulously brush away every fleck of water and patch of mud from the upholstery on the car. Steve watched him work, looking almost manic as his nails scrabbled at the dirt his shoes had made and wiped the windows that had been blurred by his breath. “I’m pretty sure your dad isn’t going t-“

“Shut up, Steve,” Tony snapped suddenly, and Steve jumped a little, eyebrows rising.

Tony stopped after another moment, staring intently at the car. He swallowed a lump in his throat. “Sorry,” he muttered again, “I didn’t… he’s just- yeah. Didn’t mean to yell.”

“It’s fine,” Steve said a little warily, “I’m pretty sure you’re entitled to some yelling after I dragged you across the city to come fetch me.”

Tony cracked a smile, the look on his face turning almost fond. “You’re very hard on yourself, you know.”

“That’s not exactly me being hard on mys-“

“If I asked you to do the same thing,” Tony spun on his heel and turned to him, and Steve stopped, nearly bumping right into him, “if I told you I’d been mugged and needed your help, would you come?”

Steve didn’t even think about it. “Of course,” he said with a frown.

Tony made a face and raised his hands. “Well there you go,” he replied quietly before tugging Steve’s hand, the touch gentle, “come on- let’s get you sorted.”

 

Tony leading them, Steve walked through the huge, empty mansion. In all honesty, he barely even noticed it- too focused on Tony’s hand clasping around his own.  
He wondered what kissing Tony would feel like. Taste like. Would his hair be soft? Undoubtedly. Would the kiss be hard, light, chaste, dirty-

 

 _Ooookay_ , he told himself quickly, feeling his cheeks begin to turn red just from the thought. That was enough of that. Very inappropriate timing.  
Save for later.

 

Three minutes later (yes, three whole minutes to get across the house) they ended up in what had to be Tony’s room. It was big, like every other place, but each surface and pretty much 90% of the walls were covered in…  
“Are those designs?” Steve asked, brows furrowing as he tried to focus in on one of the things pinned messily to the wall. Next to it, on the paintwork itself, it looked as if Tony had scribbled extra notes on in permanent marker.

Tony paused, looking at where Steve was. “Uh- I bought them. They’re not mine.”

“Really? ‘Cause that definitely looks like your writing,” Steve’s fingers brushed over the desk, moving across blueprints for some sort of jet-engine design. “Look, there’s even swear words written in the corners, and I know for a fact you’re pretty much the only person on earth who uses the phrase ‘son of a cocksucking whore’ in their everyday vocabulary.”

Tony made as if to grab it, but then gave up halfway through. He settled for just looking shifty. “It’s… kind of interesting,” he admitted, before adding defensively “there’s nothing wrong with that. I’m not- you can’t tell anyone anyway, they won’t believe you, so there’s not much point.”

He tried to work out what Tony was getting at as the boy pulled open his cupboard and buried his head inside, searching for what was probably a first-aid kit. Did Tony think Steve was going to judge him for enjoying science? Jesus Christ- Steve liked looking at _paintings;_ it wasn’t as if he had much room to talk.

“JARVIS?” Tony called out, and Steve almost jumped out of his skin when Tony’s desk answered “yes, sir?”

“Give Steve over there a scan. Check for brain trauma, breaks, that sort of thing,” Tony waved a hand in Steve’s general direction and then dove back into his cupboard. Steve watched as various things were thrown over his shoulder and sent crashing carelessly.

“What’s a Jarvis?” Steve asked, turning around and cocking his head over to the desk that was covered almost entirely in electricals and various machines. Like one massive computer.

“Artificial Intelligence,” Tony answered, “don’t worry, you won’t feel a thing, the scan’s just external.”

“Artificial intelligence,” Steve repeated, “you have an artificial intelligence in your room.”

“Hello, Mr Rogers,” the voice called out to him cheerfully, “May I just say that I am pleased to finally make your acquaintance. Sir has spoken lots about y-“

“Mute,” Tony said hurriedly, looking up before his computer could say anything else, “it’s… uh, he’s still in the early stages. Kinda buggy. You know. If you’re going to talk about _relevant_ subject matter, you can unmute yourself, JARVIS,” he added, leaning back and directing the last part over to his desk.

“Scan is complete,” JARVIS called out immediately, and Steve jerked again, “Mr Rogers is suffering from a minor concussion, one broken rib, and multiple abrasions to his midsection. No fatal damage. Recovery time: 2 months.”

“Oh good,” Tony said from the other side of the room, sitting up as he held a small green bag in his left hand, “nice to know you’ll live to see another day, Rogers.”

“How the hell did you manage to get an artificial intelligence into your room?” Steve walked forward, inspecting the desk in awe; all the buttons and wiring obviously melded together by hand, and suddenly the conclusion came to him- _Tony_ had done this, Tony had created all this with his own mind, holy _shit-_

  
“You’re a genius,” Steve answered his own question before Tony could. It was... it made sense, he supposed. The phone tracking. Science club. The designs that covered each section of his room and the equations he’d sometimes seen scribbled over the back of his hand that he’d assumed were just revision notes.

Tony Stark had an artificial intelligence. _In his room._ That was… incredible. Insane. Amazing.

He saw Tony tense up and stop moving, the smile dying on his face a little. “I…” he began, throat working nervously, “I mean- I’m not… it’s….”

“Tony, that’s not a bad thing,” Steve told him incredulously, “Jesus, this is amazing,Tony- it’s _phenomenal_. I don’t even know what to say; I can’t believe you’ve managed to hide this from everyone, I can’t believe you’d _want_ to-“

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Tony shook his head a little frantically, “please- I don’t want people to know. It’s not a big deal.”

Steve couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. If he was able to do that, he was pretty sure he’d never stop talking about it. But Tony- Tony was actively making sure it was kept hidden, and it didn’t make sense-

“Steve,” and then Tony was there, hands on his shoulders, gentle but serious all the same, “I mean it. Don’t… please, I’ll pay you if you want-“

“What? No, Tony, what the fuck?” Steve burst incredulously. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of fucking people Tony hung out with to make him so quick to use money to try and stop them from spilling his secrets. “I don’t want you money. I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

Tony looked at him for an extra second, and then nodded again. “Thank you,” he said, pushing down at Steve’s shoulders until he hit the edge of the mattress of Tony's bed, “now it’s time to actually get around to what we came here for.”

“I can do it myself, if you’d rather-“

Tony waved him off, unzipping the kit and pulling out a few antiseptic wipes. He made an upward gesture with his hand, and Steve frowned.

“Shirt,” Tony prompted when Steve did nothing, small smile dancing around his mouth, “I’m gonna need to actually see the injuries before I do anything with them.”

“Ah. Right. Yes,” Steve said quickly, looking down and feeling his cheeks get hot.  
It was just a shirt. He undressed for gym class all the time, this was no big deal. Just because it was Tony Stark, looking at him with his perfect stupid face as he got to his knees right in front of Steve and wiped the fast curling hairs out of his face-

He took a deep breath and yanked it off before he could think too hard. Or, at least, tried to.  
He felt a familiar sense of déjà vu as the fucking material got stuck over his head, and with his ribs suddenly starting to scream in pain at the stretching, ended with him tangled up in his own goddamn T-shirt.

“You really shouldn’t make a habit of getting your head stuck in things,” Tony laughed, and Steve knew he was thinking back to the terrible helmet-incident too, “what happens when you put on hats? Or have you just decided to never risk that?”

“Shut up,” Steve mumbled through the fabric, feeling Tony’s hands gently work the stupid stupid piece of stupid material off his head, “it’s just- you. You make my head get stuck in things.”

Tony took a moment of silence, and then sighed. “I’m trying really hard to think of a dirty response to that, but nothing’s coming.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s something coming,” Steve answered on autopilot, and then gasped in a mortified little breath as Tony looked up at him in delight. “Oh my God, I’m sorry, Bucky just does that all the time-“

“Oh hell, Steve Rogers has a dirty mind, what in God’s name has the world come to?” Tony asked dramatically, teeth showing as he smiled and placed the shirt beside Steve’s leg. His eyes went back to Steve’s almost entirely purple torso, and that smile lost a bit of its edge.  
“I’ll find them for you,” he said it lightly, but the words held a remarkable amount of promise in them. His hand rose absently, ghosting over the marks on Steve’s body. “Don’t worry.”

Steve opened his mouth to speak, but then he felt Tony’s fingers come to rest delicately on one of the bruises running along his chest and suddenly the words had died completely, leaving only breathlessness in its wake. He held back a gasp, staying very still as Tony traced around the mark with barely-there fingers; his gaze so focused, so very _intense_ , Steve thought he might burn from it.

After a second, unfortunately Tony seemed to snap out of it, shaking his head and looking down. “Uh-“ he muttered, reaching for an antiseptic wipe, “just gonna- and then- yeah-“

When he bent down to curl a hand around the wipe, Steve noticed the back of his neck had turned red.  
So Tony Stark _did_ blush.

“What?” He asked, when he looked back up and caught Steve trying to hold back on a smile.

“Nothing.”

“No, seriously, what are you smiling at?”

“Honestly, it’s not-“

“Is there something in my room?” Tony turned around quickly, trying to spot the incriminating evidence, “because that’s totally not my fault and you should just ignore any dirty underwear you see in here, I don’t even spend much time-“

“It’s not that,” Steve shook his head, laughing, “you just… your neck goes red when you blush. It’s-“

 _Cute,_ he wanted to say- but again, the words kind of failed him.

Tony’s hand slid over the place where his collar lay, and he looked slightly mortified. “I don’t- I don't blush, Rogers, what are you talking about?”

“You _totally_ just blushed, come on, don’t even lie-“

“Hey, shush, you’re injured, I’m supposed to be looking after you and I haven’t even started yet, come here-“ Tony waved off his words and looked back down at his chest, and Steve stopped talking, but the smile still flickered across his face.

Slowly, Tony made his way through each cut and bruise on his midsection, pressing icepacks into the worse ones and then just frowning unhappily at the lesser, like his disapproval alone would make them go away. When it came to the broken rib, Steve thought he would just leave it, but Tony fixed it up like every other injury; wrapping a bandage around the area until it was strapped across his chest and setting the rib in place.  
Steve had to wonder how many times Tony had done this before.

“You’ve been looking after me ever since I turned up here, actually,” Steve said before he could stop himself, and when Tony glanced up at him with a raised eyebrow, Steve hastened to continue. “You said- about not starting to look after me yet, but… but you have. For ages. With the party and the ride and- and stuff. I- I’m not sure why I said that? I just- yeah. I… yeah.”

 

Well great. That had been the most disjointed and stupid thing he’d possibly ever said.

 

Tony looked up at him for a few more seconds, before turning back down to continue without speaking. But Steve could see him holding back a smile, and the back of his neck was turning pink again, holy _fuck_ that was far more adorable than it should have been-

“Have you called your friends yet?” Tony asked suddenly.

Steve paused, stomach dropping. Oh, shit. They were probably freaking out right about now. Fuck. Well… that was probably not good. “Uh- no. I should… do you have a phone?”

Tony pulled it out of his back pocket and handed it over to Steve whilst simultaneously getting up from where he’d been knelt and moving to sit on the bed next to Steve instead, eyes on the cut over his forehead. Steve bit his lip and dialled quickly, Bucky’s number coming quick from memory.

It only had to dial once before Bucky’s voice answered with a wary “Hello?”

“Buck, it’s me,” Steve started, and a second later he heard a massive sigh of relief and a muttered curse as Bucky yelled, obviously to the rest of the group, “it’s Steve! Guys, he’s okay! Clint, call Nat and Sam and tell them to stop looking!”

“Uh oh,” Tony muttered by his side, hearing the yells down the line, “that doesn’t sound good.”

“Fuck, Steve, what the fuck happened to you? You weren’t answering your phone, you’ve been gone nearly an hour! We thought you’d been fucking kidnapped!”

“I… I got mugged,” Steve shut his eyes and then winced when the cotton swab Tony had been working over his cut hit a particularly sore spot, “sorry. I’m okay, though. I’ll be heading back to Nat’s in a little while.”

“What? Steve, holy shit- who are you with?” Bucky asked worriedly.

“Tony- he picked me up, I’m over at his, I’m f-“

“Tony Stark?”

“There aren’t any other Tony’s I know, Buck.”

There was a short silence. Then- “and what the fuck was Tony Stark doing driving ‘round Lower East?” He asked, an edge to his voice that Steve couldn’t work out.

“I called him, Bucky, Jesus,” Steve said exasperatedly, “it’s fine-“

“Where does he live?” Bucky cut in, “We’re coming over. I want to check you’re okay.”

Steve turned to Tony- but the other boy had tensed up, and when Steve raised an eyebrow, Tony… shook his head?

“They can’t come,” Tony told him, looking almost panicked- the same face he’d been making down by the car, when he’d swept all the dirt out of it, “it’s bad enough having you over, but all of _them_ \- no, they can’t- just tell them I’ll drop you off in twenty minutes.”

“Tony-“ Steve began, frowning. He got that he might have a strict dad, but surely the man would understand?

“They’re not coming, Steve,” Tony said loudly and with finality.

Bucky heard it over the line, and actually growled. “Put me on the phone to that guy, _now_ ,” he said sharply, “I want to have a word.”

Before Steve could even pull it off, Tony snatched it from Steve and spoke into it quickly. His face was like thunder.  
“I have him, he’s safe, and I will drop him off in twenty fucking minutes. They are all the Goddamn words you need, thanks.”

And then he cut the call, throwing the phone on the bed roughly. Steve watched it, completely confused, before batting Tony’s hand away when it tried to go back to its place over Steve’s forehead. “What the hell was that about?” He asked sharply, “they’re my friends- they’re going to be worried about me, Tony, there was no need to be so rude about it.”

Tony opened his mouth, gearing up to reply, but the words never came. Instead, he just slumped a little, sighing. The blank look came back to his eyes, and Steve regretted what he’d said instantly. Tony’s reasons were none of his business- and after all the effort Tony had gone to for him that evening, he really had no authority to be getting high and mighty about Tony’s tone. He was probably just stressed, and Steve didn’t blame him. He knew he was a goddamn handful on a good day.

Tony didn’t speak again, and Steve didn’t prompt him to. He just sat there, frowning a little as he watched Tony sit with his face inches away and clean up the cut that ran from hairline to eyebrow.  
For the life of him, Steve just could not work that boy out.

“Right,” Tony finished quietly, breaking the silence after two more minutes, “all done.”

Steve pressed two fingers against his face, feeling the bandaid that now covered the injured section of his forehead. Tony sat back a little, looking everywhere but Steve.  
“Thank you,” he said honestly. “For- everything. You really stuck your neck out for me. Again.”

Tony shrugged. “Wasn’t a big deal.”

“I feel like it kinda was,” Steve bit his lip and tried to get Tony to actually look at him. He knew Tony was upset, and hated the fact that he was some of the reason why, especially after everything Tony had gone out and done for him. He felt like a tool. “And look- sorry for snapping, earlier. I know I was asking a lot of you. It wasn’t fair for me to assume my friends were able to just walk in-“

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony waved off the apology instinctively, sliding his feet back to the floor and standing, “no big deal. Don’t blame your friends for worrying- I’m not exactly known for being nice.”

“Why is that?”

The question, just like every other he had asked that night, was out before he could stop it. Genuine curiosity more than anything; an almost desperate desire to just know all he could about Tony Stark. There was so much he would never even have imagined- the boy was a fucking _genius_ , for Christ’s sake. What else was he hiding? What else was there to the boy who’d caught his eye on the very first day and never really let go since?  
More than anything, Steve just wanted to know.

Tony looked at him, and his lip twitched in amusement. “My reputation exceeds me, I think,” he admitted wryly, “and I hate to break it to you, Rogers, but I’m not actually a good person.”

The comment was a throwaway, and Tony was already moving across the room and grabbing his coat like what he’d just said hadn’t even held any weight.  
“Well that’s a complete fucking lie,” Steve blurted, snorting in disbelief. Tony couldn’t have been fucking serious with that, surely?

Tony stopped moving, looking back at Steve, who was still sat with his legs crossed on the bed. He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know me well enough to say that,” he told Steve bluntly.

“And if you seriously think that, you don’t know yourself well enough either,” Steve told him, “Tony, Jesus, look-“

His hand grabbed Tony’s arm and held him in place, stopping the pacing around the room. It wasn’t a strong grip, but Tony stopped moving completely, his eyes turning down to the fingers on his arm. He opened his mouth a little.

“I’m going to give you a fuck-ton of compliments now, so get ready,” Steve warned.

“I think I’m gonna pass, actually,” Tony backed up, his legs hitting the desk, but Steve followed, unwilling to back down.

“Nope, you’re hearing it.”

“No I’m n-“

“You are a good person, Tony-“

“Hands are going up to my ears, nope, look at this-“ Tony ducked under Steve’s arms and leaped on his bed, slapping his palms against the side of his face and covering his ears quickly.

“You are kind and you care-“ Steve’s voice got louder, and he followed Tony relentlessly, standing on the bed and ducking under a low-hanging light to avoid a second concussion, “- and you look out for people even when you don’t need to-“

“Lalalala, I can’t hear you, see, this is useless-“

“And I don’t care what you think, or what anyone thinks, ‘cause I know you’re a good person-“ Steve dodged the pillow Tony chucked at him and then surged forward, grabbing Tony’s hands and pulling them away from his ears, “-and I’m gonna tell you every day, just to annoy you, because _it is true-“_

Tony was laughing, shaking his head in despair as he looked up at the ceiling. “Oh God have mercy on my soul, I knew I should never have introduced myself to you, look what I’ve gotten into-“

“Tough shit, buddy,” Steve shrugged, winding his foot around the back of Tony’s leg and then swiping, sending him tumbling onto his back with a yell, “’cause I’m here now, and you’re just gonna have to deal.”

Tony sprawled over the mattress under Steve’s feet and shut his eyes, perfect teeth shining as he grinned. “Hmm- I guess there are worse things to be stuck with,” he said with a half-hearted shrug.

Steve gave him a soft kick in the side, and then suddenly felt the air rushing over his face as Tony’s hand curled around his ankle and tugged him down too. He made an embarrassingly high squeaking noise, which quickly turned to a hiss of pain as his ribs flared up painfully-

“Oh my God, shit, your chest, are you okay?” Tony’s face fell and he sat up in a panic, hands immediately hovering over Steve in anxiety, “I fucking- oh, God, I’m an idiot, I didn’t think, I’m really s-“

“I’m fine,” Steve smacked his hands away with a fond roll of his eyes, “seriously, this is nothing. Should’a seen me back in Brooklyn- coming home black and blue every other day.”

Tony frowned, and he pushed his hair from out of his eyes in order to look down at Steve. “You really don’t look like someone who would get into as many fights as you do,” he said, eyes flicking upward a little, “it’s definitely the hair.”

“Jesus Christ, what is it about my hair that’s so-“

“It’s very misleading hair! Too- too blonde. And perfect.” Tony’s nose wrinkled a little, and Steve sat up indignantly, running a hand self-consciously through the too-long strands that fell limply over his forehead. It had dried funny, and he could feel the stupid kinks that had formed in the process, making him look like an idiot, no doubt-

“Hey,” Tony said, voice going quieter as his left hand batted Steve’s fingers away from where they were fiddling with his bangs, “ I think it’s cute,” he admitted with a little shrug, like he knew exactly what Steve was thinking. His hand lingered an inch from Steve’s face, before it brushed tentatively across, sweeping the mess of hair from out of his eyes.

  
Steve’s breath hitched, and try as he might, he couldn’t find it in him to pull his eyes off Tony’s. They were closer than Steve thought they ever had been; almost nose to nose, in fact. It would be so easy to just-

 

\- “Sir,“

 

Tony jumped about a mile in the air, pulling away from Steve jerkily and choking a little. “ _JARVIS_! What did I say about picking your fucking moments-“

“You asked me to alert you when your father was five minutes from arrival,” JARVIS told him, sounding prim, and despite the fact that it seemed he’d just been cockblocked by a fucking AI, Steve couldn’t help but marvel at the way Tony had managed to get authentic inflections in the robot’s voice. It sounded almost human. A fucking annoying human, sure, but still.

He watched as Tony stopped, the relaxed posture dissipating immediately. The boy shook himself, and then ran a hand over his face, sliding off the bed. “Oh, right. I- yeah, Steve, we should probably… I should take you home. Your friends- yeah.”

Ah. Yes. Friends. Important friends that were probably still worried about his safety. And things. Right.

“Do you think you can ride on the back of my bike?” Tony asked, frowning and looking down at Steve’s still-bare chest.

Steve shrugged. They hurt, but he was used to it. His head felt worse, to be honest- but again, he’d survived more severe injuries before. This was practically a walk in the park. “I’ll be fine,” he said, nodding his head.

“Sure?”

“Sure I’m sure.”

“… Really s-“

“Tony,” Steve rolled his eyes and reached for his shirt, throwing it over his head and fitting his arms through the sleeves, “I am _fine_. Honestly. Nothing a good rest and a few painkillers won’t fix.”

Tony continued to look concerned, but in the end he just sighed and then nodded. “Right,” he said with a sigh, “fine, let’s go. Just don’t fall off.”

“I won’t fall off if you promise to wear a helmet this time,” Steve responded, following Tony out of the door.

Tony turned around, walking backwards and grinning at Steve. “Where’s the fun in riding safely?” He pouted, but when Steve shot him an unimpressed glare, he just sighed dramatically. “Ugh, fine. Two helmets it is, then. Wait-“ he turned once more, looking Steve up and down, “do you have a jacket?”

Steve shook his head. “They took it,” he muttered.

Tony pursed his lips and began walking again. Steve followed, but then stopped when he got something thrown in his face. Hands coming up instinctively, he grabbed hold of the thing that had been chucked over him and frowned. “Why did you just throw your jacket at me?”

“Why do you think, smartass?”

Steve was silent. And then he jerked. “I’m not wearing your jacket, Tony.”

“It’s cold and wet and you just got your ass beat, Steve, just take the fucking jacket.”

“I do not need to wear this, it’s _summer_ , I think I’ll survive-“

“I’d rather not risk it, thanks,” Tony jumped down the staircase and grabbed another denim jacket from the coat-hanger by the door, “I’ll take this one, you take that one. Then we are both appropriately equipped for riding around New York.”

Steve glowered at Tony, who just smiled innocently back and threw on his spare coat. Fucking idiot looked great in denim, too. Fuck him double.

Walking out of the door, he slipped the jacket through his arms and tried not to blush when his hands barley reached to the other end of the sleeves. It looked about five sizes too big for him.  
When he looked up, he caught Tony staring at him. His eyes were a little bit larger than they had been a few seconds previously, and when Steve raised his eyebrows, Tony spun back around and cleared his throat. The collar was higher on the new jacket Tony had on, but Steve would have bet good money that the back of that boy’s neck was bright red.

He couldn’t help but feel a little triumphant.

“Right,” Tony kept his eyes fixed firmly to the bike as he jumped on and started the engine, “let’s get you home before your friends bring the police to my door, shall we?”

Steve laughed, jumping on behind him and wrapping his arms around Tony’s waist. “Put your foot on it, Stark.”

With an amused huff, Tony did.

 

 

 

 

 _____

 

 

 

 

They arrived back at Nat’s place fourteen minutes later, and by that time darkness was covering the city, the streetlights being the only thing to illuminate their path.

Steve was quietly grateful of Tony’s leather jacket. Riding around New York in a T-shirt would not have been fun.

 

“Home sweet home,” Tony declared, cutting the engine and sliding off. Immediately, his hands went out to Steve, “now, are you gonna fall on your ass again, or have you learnt how to dismount a bike properly?”

“Ha ha,” Steve jumped down quickly, thankful that he had actually managed to stay on his feet that time, “I’ll have you know that I have excellent balance, actually.”

“Just not when you’re drunk,” Tony said drily.

Steve opened his mouth, and then sighed. “Just not when I’m drunk,” he admitted.

Tony smiled, sticking his hands in his pockets and then starting to walk up the path to Sam’s house, Steve falling into step behind him. It was funny, how easy he found Tony to talk to. Although, to be fair, everything felt easy when he was with Tony and Tony was just being Tony- if that made any sense.  
There were just so many parts to him that Steve wanted to know about. The intellect, for one thing. The large house that had no one in it but Tony. The drink and the drugs and the lifestyle that never seemed to match up to the boy Steve knew when he was speaking to him one on one. The fact that Tony was the most popular guy in school, and yet Steve only ever got the feeling that he was overwhelmingly _lonely._  
An enigma inside a puzzle-box. And Steve wanted to sit down and spend hours trying to solve it.

He knew what it was. Knew what he felt. It had been pretty obvious that he was crushing on the guy since the first day- but he could tell that this was more than that. He knew what falling in love felt like.

It was the same thing he felt whenever Tony looked at him and tried so very hard not to smile.

God, it was a terrible idea. And Tony- Jesus, the thought of someone like Tony being romantically interested in someone like him was utterly _laughable_. But Steve wasn’t exactly known for his good sense of judgement, and hell-

He wouldn’t be able to stop this even if he wanted to.

 

They walked up the drive, shoulders brushing until they reached the step.  Tony knocked three times with the toe of his boot, and then turned to Steve, opening his mouth-

 

The door was yanked open and Steve watched in surprise as someone’s hand flew out and shoved Tony off the step, sending him sprawling onto the gravel a few feet away.

“What the fuck?” Steve spun around, looking up at Bucky in horror as he stood by the door and reached for Steve’s shoulder, pulling him inside. “Bucky, what _the fuck_ are you d-“

“Stay away from him, Stark, do you hear me?” Bucky snarled, and Tony got to his feet in bewilderment, brushing the dirt off his jeans and then staring at the two of them incredulously. “Stay away from Steve. I’m not gonna tell you again.”

There were voices on the other side of the door, and Steve spotted Natasha and Clint step through into the porch, concern written all over their faces.

“I’m sorry, no offence or anything, but who in the _fuck_ do you think you are?” Tony asked, voice hard, “and what exactly do you think I’ve done?”

“It’s funny how Steve only ever gets himself into shit when you’re around, isn’t it?” Bucky asked, hand holding firm to Steve’s shoulder, “funny how you’re always the one to ride in and save him, so very fucking conveniently.”

Tony laughed and Steve swore, shoving Bucky in the chest, but it didn’t do much except make his ribs flare in pain. “Oh, so you think I planned on Steve getting mugged tonight, do you?”

“I don’t know- I don’t know if he even _did_ get mugged, all I hear is that Steve went out and suddenly found himself at your house, with you refusing to let us see him. Then you swan back in here and he’s wearing your jacket, and don’t think I fucking know what people like you do to people like him, Stark, I’m not fucking blind-“

“Huh, you ever considered the fact that maybe if you’d given more of a shit about your fucking boyfriend I wouldn’t have had to go haul ass down here to pick him up in the first place?” Tony asked, cocking his head, and Steve knew that look- he was gearing up for a fight, he was getting battle ready- “Who the fuck thinks it’s a good idea to send someone who doesn’t know where the fuck they’re going or what parts of the town are safe off to get pizza? On his own? Whilst all your fucking phones are switched off? I’m not the one who fucked him over today, _you_ are.”

Steve could hear Natasha shouting for James in the background, and saw Clint try and take hold of Bucky’s arms- but Bucky was already marching forward, and Tony didn’t look ready to back down either- fuck, how had everything managed to spiral so fast in the space of a few seconds-

“BUCKY!” Steve yelled in fury, slamming his hands into the boy’s chest again, “Bucky, For the love of Christ, _stop it!”_

Steve slotted himself in the path to Tony and glared at his idiot of a best friend in fury. Behind him, he could hear Tony’s footsteps slow down too, until they reached a complete standstill less than a meter from Steve.

“I don’t know what the fuck your problem is,” Steve hissed at Bucky, pushing him back again and feeling Bucky relent a little that time, “But it stops _now_. Get back inside.”

“Not until this asshole’s left I won’t,” Bucky answered, and he heard Tony laughing behind him, empty and hollow.

“Jesus, you do realise that if I hadn’t been there, he’d still be freezing out on the streets, right?” Tony asked, “I did you a fucking favour.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you did, but you seem to have Steve wrapped pretty firmly around your little finger either way,” Bucky answered, hands shaking by his sides, “now I don’t know if you’re manipulating him, or blackmailing him, or just straight up fuckin’ lying to him ‘cause you want in his pants, but I’m telling you it ends here. You’re dangerous, Stark, and I won’t let you put a finger on him. He’s been through enough-”

“If you say one more word, Bucky, I will fucking kill you,” Steve snarled angrily, and Bucky looked at him with a grim face, but Steve was _done_ \- he didn’t know what Bucky’s mind had concocted in the panic between Steve going missing and coming back, but it was obviously not good, and needed to be put to bed as soon as possible.

There were yells from the door, and then Steve watched in confusion as James pushed through his friends and jumped out of the door. His face was serious as he looked over Steve’s shoulder to Tony, and when Steve turned, he saw Tony’s face go from angry to mildly confused. “ _Rhodey_?” He asked, voice incredulous.

“We’re leaving,” James- Rhodey- said grimly, shoving past Bucky and making his way to Tony’s side, “I don’t know what your fucking problem is, Barnes, but I won’t stand there and let you talk to my best friend like that.”

Bucky’s mouth dropped open a little. “Your best friend is Tony Stark?” He asked dumbly, and Steve watched Carol walk hurriedly out of the door too, zipping up her coat and shooting Bucky a grim stare as she joined Rhodey’s side.

“He’s a better person than you fucking are,” Rhodey growled, taking Tony’s arm and tugging them away, “come on, man, just leave it. This isn’t your problem.”

Steve watched them go helplessly. Tony looked at him one more time; a red mark beginning to fade in on his forehead from where it had hit the gravel, and then he sighed, turning away with a shake of his head. He shrugged Rhodey’s arm off and said a few quiet words into the other boy’s ear, before beginning to march off down the drive and over to his bike. His hands came out of his pocket and pulled out a small hip flask, and then Steve could only look on in despair as Tony chugged half of it in one and then slid onto the seat.

“Tony don’t-“ Steve called after him, and he moved forward but Bucky still kept hold of his arm, so Steve slammed his shoulder angrily into the boy’s chest and shoved him off before turning back around.

But Tony had started up the engine, and not even Rhodey was able to convince him to stop. He took one last look at Steve, and the with a sad smile, he kicked off the break and drove away.  
He hadn’t even put on his fucking helmet. Again.

 

There was silence; Steve, Rhodey and Carol stood together by the side of the road and then the rest of his friends at the foot of the house. Steve could barely even believe what had happened- couldn’t understand why Bucky had acted like such a fucking idiot.

“You need to have words with your fucking friends, Rogers,” Rhodey gritted, looking across at him, “or I will.”

“Rhodey, it’s not his fault,” Carol said, shooting Steve an apologetic look, “I think they were all just stressed out and worried- but I agree that you need to talk to them. That wasn’t right.”

“Do you have any change I could borrow?” Steve asked quietly, rubbing a hand across his face.

Rhodey looked confused, but nodded, pulling five bucks from his pocket. “We’ll see you ‘round, Steve,” he said, before turning away with Carol and walking down the street.

Steve was left by the road, staring at his friends on the porch and Bucky on the path with a face that could probably curdle milk. “You better have the best damn excuse in the entire world as to what just happened there, Bucky,” he said quietly.

Bucky had his arms folded in front of him, and he looked stubborn. They’d had their fair share of arguments over the years- Steve knew that stance. He wasn’t ready to back down yet, it seemed.

“I was protecting you,” he answered, jerking his head, “from that.”

Steve saw red.

“Do you know what I hate more than anything else in the entire fucking universe?” Steve snarled, holding his ground on the other side of the road, “it’s people who try and decide what’s best for me. ‘Cause I’m small, and I’m weak, and big bad Bucky’s gotta know better than I do about everything, doesn’t he? Well _fuck you!”_ He spat, and he heard Peggy telling him to calm down on the other side of the door, but he wasn’t having it, he _wasn’t_ \- “you don’t know shit-all about Tony. He _helped_ me. How did you manage to take a good thing he did and make it looked awful? Why did you have to hurt him because of your own stupid fucking hangups about not being able to look after me? “

Bucky threw his hands in the air. “Steve, I hate to break it to you pal, but you’re a fuckin’ mess right now!” He yelled angrily. “You are vulnerable, whether you like it or not. You don’t have people looking out for you and then Stark’s coming along, makin’ you think he’s all that- and you saw him get on that bike after taking a massive drink of whatever the fuck- he’s not fucking safe and he’s not fucking good for you!”

“YOU AREN’T MY FUCKING MOTHER, BUCKY!”

“THAT’S THE FUCKING _POINT_ YOU IDIOT- I’M TRYING TO KEEP HER ONLY SON FROM GETTING HIMSELF KILLED!”

Steve howled, then- marching forward, not knowing what he was going to do but knowing that Bucky had just managed to hit on every frayed edge, every torn up part of him, and now all that anger had to go somewhere.

 

He was sick of every part of his life being controlled by someone else. Since the day he was goddamn born- ‘take this medicine, Steve’, ‘don’t leave the house, Steve’, ‘that’s not safe for you, Steve’. He’d been ill and he’d lost his freedom for the sake of surviving, but he was _sick of it._ He wasn’t an invalid any more, no matter what his idiot best friend thought. Just because his Goddamn mom had gone and gotten herself killed didn’t fucking mean he had to become some helpless kid all over again, because he wasn’t, he wasn’t _he wasn’t he wasn’t-_

 

“Hey hey hey hey,” there were suddenly hands on his shoulders, pushing him back, and Steve was about to lash out before realising it was only Sam. “Let’s just calm it. Call it a night, huh? We can get the bus home- Rhodey gave you some money, didn’t he? I think we all just need to cool off. You can speak to Bucky in the morning.”

Steve breathed hard, glaring at Bucky from over Sam’s shoulder. His cheeks felt hot and he wiped the angry tears off his face; the proof of too many emotions boiling their way to the surface all at once.

Bucky was just looking at him with a mixture of anger and despair. Steve wanted to punch it right off his stupid face. He wished he didn’t care so goddamned much about the bastard- it would be a hell of a let easier to actually go through with it, then.

Steve pushed off Sam and turned away, starting to march down the street. He paused, in order to point a finger over to Bucky. “You- you leave me alone, you got that?” He yelled across the road.

Bucky’s hands flexed by his side, and he clenched his jaw. “Loud and fucking clear, pal.”

 

Steve took another moment to just stare at the mess of a scene in front of him- and then without another word, he turned and marched away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky means well, he really does. He's just... going about it badly.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Steve Rogers:_  ** _Hey_ _Tony I'm texting from Sam's phone, it's Steve._

_**Steve Rogers:** Tony?_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Tony please answer me_

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _I just want to know if you got back okay_

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Tony please answer_

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _I’m so sorry about Bucky, I’m so angry at him and I’ll make him apologize, I promise, you didn’t deserve that._

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _I’m really sorry Tony please can you just answer your phone so I know you’re safe_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _I’m fine_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Oh thank God_

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Can you call me? Please, I want to explain- Bucky means well, he’s just super protective of me after everything that’s happened- we’ve always been really close and… it would just be easier if you answered your phone and let me explain? Please?_

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Tony?_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _I don’t think we should see each other any more, Steve_

 

Steve looked down at his phone blankly, feeling the words sink in like a punch to the stomach. He’d been sat on his bed staring at his phone for almost an hour waiting for Tony to reply, worried sick about whether he’d got home okay- and although he felt the palpable sense of relief upon seeing Tony’s texts, he also wished viscerally that he’d not looked. Seeing that in words just hurt.

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Why? Tony, what Buck said was bullshit, seriously, don’t listen to him._

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Tony come on_

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _I’m so so sorry_

 

This time, he didn’t even get a reply.

 

 

 

 

 _____

 

 

 

There was a nervous knocking, and Steve ceased his ceiling-staring in order to sit up on the bed and throw a slipper against the door as a warning. “Go away, Sam,” he called out, looking at the shadow under the crack of his door as it hovered uncertainly outside.

“Oh, don’t worry man, I don’t wanna touch this with a ten-foot pole- I’m just here to tell you Bucky’s outside the house. He wants to talk.”

Steve laughed loudly and yanked his other slipper off in order to throw that one too. “Tell him he can go fuck himself, fuckhead!” he yelled.

There was a short silence, and then Steve huffed, standing up on his bed and walking over to the window by his wall. Yanking it open and sticking his head out, he caught sight of Bucky underneath him, hands in his pockets and looking remarkably like a defiant child. Which Steve figured was pretty fucking accurate.

“Hey!” Steve called, and Bucky’s head turned, looking up at him, “Go fuck yourself, Fuckhead!” He finished, before sticking two fingers up and ducking his head back inside.

He caught the tail-end of something that sounded suspiciously like ‘oh for fuck’s sake Steve-‘ but he’d slammed the window closed before he could catch the rest of it and then jumped back down onto the floor, turning back to the door where Sam was stood. “There we go- problem sorted,” he told the boy with an air of finality.

There was a short sigh, and then the sound of retreating footsteps. “I’ll come back a bit later, shall I?”

“You do that,” Steve muttered to no one in particular, kicking a stray sock across the room and then throwing himself back down face-first onto the bed.

He’d woken up in a shit mood, he’d looked at his phone and the corresponding text messages and then fallen into an even shittier mood, and now his idiot best friend was at his door trying to talk to him.  
Well, Steve didn’t feel like fucking talking yet, so Bucky was just going to have to wait.

The anger still simmered just below the surface, ready to burst at any moment. He still couldn’t believe what Bucky had done- felt utterly fucking mortified at the way he’d treated Tony after the guy had literally dropped everything to come after him when he’d called. It was the most _embarrassing_ , stupidly idiotic thing Bucky could have chosen to do at that time, and Steve just wanted to punch his dumb fucking face-

 

Right. Anger. Yeah, that was still there.

 

He sighed, rolling over and staring at the same spot he’d been looking at for the past hour. His hand was still holding onto his phone, and Tony’s jacket glared at him from where it had been carefully draped against the chair in the corner of his room.

It was all just a mess.

Rolling back upright, he crawled back over to his window and tentatively peeked outside again. Bucky had disappeared. Steve felt a slight pang of guilt at refusing him after he’d traveled all the way down from Brooklyn, but it wasn’t enough to make him regret it. He didn’t want to talk at that point.

Palming a hand over his forehead, he opened up his phone and went into his messages again. His fingers lingered over the keyboard, trying to decide on whether or not to text Tony again- but in the end, he just threw it across the bed with a loud sigh and then flopped back onto his back. He’d already tried four times. If Tony wanted to answer him, he would have by now. Steve just had to get on with the fact that he wasn’t going to be getting a response from Tony anytime soon, if at all.

In conclusion, the whole weekend had sucked.

In his frustration, Steve threw back his hands and let them flop uselessly over his headboard.  
He missed- hands hitting the dressing table next to him instead, and the glass of water he kept there tumbled loudly, smacking into his face and sending water all over him and his pillow.

Steve nodded, shutting his eyes. “Seems accurate,” he declared with a sigh.

 

 

 

 _____

 

 

 

 

Three hours later, and Steve was still in his room when he heard another, louder knocking against his door.

“Go away Sam,” He repeated, voice muffled by his still-damp pillow.

“Not Sam,” came a familiar British voice, and Steve frowned, sitting up as Peggy told him “open the door and let me talk to you, Steven , or I will sit here and wait until you need to pee and then ambush you instead. Your choice.”

Steve shut his eyes and contemplated just making a break for it out of the window, but he knew it was a futile effort. She’d no doubt be waiting for him when he got down. Peggy was insufferable like that.  
“Fine,” he snapped, curling in on himself and staring sulkily at the door, “but you better not piss me off anymore. I’m still mad.”

Peggy turned the handle and walked in, looking around the room until her eyes settled on him and she sighed. “In all fairness,” she began, sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed, “I didn’t do much wrong besides stand there and watch the events unfold.”

“Should’ve tried to knock some sense into him,” Steve mumbled, “or, failing that, just knocked him.”

Peggy sighed again. She folded up her legs on the bed and then shuffled around a bit until she was facing him. He kept his eyes fixed on the wall in front; hand tucked under the pillow and not even caring that much about how wet and uncomfortable it was. He hadn’t been bothered enough to swap it out after the glass had spilled all over it, and it had ended up sort of molded to him anyway.

“So,” she began quietly, “I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be- Bucky was out of line last night and everyone, including himself, knows that. But I just want you to hear me out for a second, okay?”

Steve didn’t say anything, but he nodded his head, and that was all the confirmation Peggy needed.

He felt the weight distribution shift on the bed as she leaned forward and rested her head on the heels of her palms. “Bucky’s known you since you two were babies,” she started, voice soft, “longer than I have. Longer than anyone has. Let’s be honest here, you’re pretty much brothers at this point. And he treated your mom as his own, too. You know what his own parents are like; barely ever there, and when they are they don’t give a shit about him. So your mom, you know- she was pretty much family to him. Me- well, I had my parents there all the time, and then there was all that faff about me moving back to England, and- I don’t know, I guess I just never got the chance to become as close to her as Bucky did. I loved her to bits, obviously- but it was in a different way.”

She paused, and Steve heard he run a hand through her hair. “You lost your mother, Steve, and that is heartbreaking- but Bucky lost her too. And although it wasn’t nearly the same sort of grief you felt, it still hurt him a hell of a lot more than he ever let on to you.”

Steve frowned, shifting to look at her. She smiled. “Bucky loved her an awful lot. He still loves _you_ an awful lot, too- and now you’re pretty much the only family he has left.”

He gritted his teeth and looked down. “Doesn’t give him the right to try and control my entire life,” he muttered angrily.

“Steve, you didn’t see yourself six months ago,” Peggy murmured softly, and when Steve looked over to her again, her eyes were full of sadness, “you were off the rails and you know it. We had to watch you just….fall apart, right in front of us. It was _awful_. It broke our hearts. And Bucky- he was so desperate to keep you safe, to look after you, it was all he did, all he focused on, for _months_. Controlling your life so that you wouldn’t end up finishing it yourself was pretty much all he did for half a year, and Goddamn it, he did it well. Look at you now- you’re better. You’re smiling more. It’s brilliant for us both to see.”

He turned his eyes down to the floor, picking on a stray seam that lined his pillow. “I was never going to kill myself,” he said obstinately, but the way Peggy looked at him made him certain she didn’t believe that at all.

“You just…” she shut her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose tiredly, “You have to understand that Bucky- he’s pretty fucked up right now too. And he’s centered all his grief around helping you- even now, when you don’t need it anymore.” She cracked a smile and raised her eyebrows. “Protecting your arse is in his DNA, Steve.”

“That doesn’t excuse what he did- if what you’re saying is true, then he should have been fucking falling at Tony’s feet for picking me up and helping me out,” Steve argued snappily, clenching his jaw and throwing out a hand.

She at least had the decency to nod at that. “I never said what he did was right,” she told him, “and maybe I am trying to justify it, but at the end of the day Bucky still acted like a knobhead because of his own pre-conceived ideas about Tony and who he was as a person. I think we were all just freaked out by your disappearing act, to be honest. It was stressing Bucky out. Then he got a call from you an hour later saying you were fine, and you had been fine for what was obviously quite some time, but you were with Tony Stark? The guy we’d looked up on the internet and found a criminal record the length of your arm? And more than that; when Bucky asked to come see you, Tony refused to let us?”  
She shrugged, picking at her nails like she always did when she was stressed, “Our imaginations went into overdrive. I may have helped him on that front, and that’s my fault. But I was worried, and Bucky was worried, and then we just sort of got caught in a spiral. It ended with Bucky convinced Tony was blackmailing you into sniffing five lines of coke and then going back to his mansion to have wild drug-fuelled sex.”

Steve coughed in shock, and Peggy chuckled a little as he blushed crimson. “What the- oh my _God_ , Peg-“

“Hey, you were the one who had the bright idea of turning up wearing his coat like your victory winnings,” she said, pointing an accusing hand over to the black leather jacket in the corner of the room, “I’m pretty sure that’s what made Bucky flip in the end. He thought Stark was showing you off.”

“And it didn’t occur to him that Tony just didn’t want me to get cold? No, of course not,” Steve mumbled, sitting up properly until his shoulders brushed Peggy’s. “God, I’m so mad at him.”

“I know,” she nodded, “I don’t blame you. I think he is too. Natasha put him in his place after you left- although I think he’d already started getting the hint after what you’d said to him.” She paused, making a little face and throwing her hair back with a twist of her neck. “He does want to try and put things right. I promise. I spoke to him this morning.”

With a sigh, Steve let his head drop into Peggy’s shoulder. She mirrored the action, resting her cheek on his hair.  
“I really do like Tony,” he said quietly, “he’s not what you think. I swear. But after what Bucky said to him, he’s not answering my texts. Says he doesn’t think we should talk any more.”

“Ah,” Peggy said, “that’s not good.” She paused, and then added, “you want me to go and smack Bucky across the back of the head again?”

“How many times have you done it already?”

“Three. He got one off Nat as well, though.”

Steve contemplated for a moment, before shaking his head. “I’ll do it myself when I next see him,” he said with a huff.

He felt Peggy begin to smile. “So the Steve Rogers-Bucky Barnes friendship has not been irreparably fragmented, then?” She asked hopefully, and Steve just rolled his eyes, jostling their shoulders.

“Unfortunately, I find it difficult to imagine life without the idiot.”

She hummed her agreement and then leaned down, kissing his forehead and staining the area red as always. He felt her brush at it lightly with a finger. “I’m sure you’ll bring Tony ‘round,” she said with a smile, “he seems pretty smitten with you, if what you’ve told me is anything to go by. And you’ve still got his jacket. That’s already a nice little excuse wrapped up in a bow. Just throw him a smile and he’ll fall right back to your feet, I promise,” she grinned and he shook his head fondly, giving her a shove.

They laughed at each other, and Steve was hit with how lucky he was to have a person like Peggy in his corner. Calm and collected and completely competent- she was perfect in her own right. He remembered, when he’d first met her, how massively he’d crushed on her. With her cute accent and her red lips and the way she’d not even hesitated for a second as she’d swung a right hook across some asshole’s face and knocked him flat-out on her very first day at school.

Yeah. Peggy was the best.

“It’ll all work itself out,” she promised him, hand reaching for his and clutching tight.

 

Steve pulled a face, but squeezed back.  
“It fucking better.”

 

 

 

 

 _____

 

 

 

 

He banged his fist against Bucky’s door and waited by the front steps, stuffing his hands into his pockets and watching as Bucky’s familiar figure began to loom through the frosted glass.

There was a moment where Bucky hovered on the other side, but after a few seconds it seemed he’d finished giving himself a pep-talk because Steve heard his hand go to the lock. When he pulled open the door, Steve glared at him.  
“You are a fucking asshole,” he began.

Bucky just nodded, subdued. “Okay, get it out-“

“You have _no_ _right_ to blow up like that with people just because you think you have everything figured out about them,” Steve began, hands flying out wildly as he took a step forward, “you completely and utterly stepped out of line last night. The line wasn’t even _there_ any more. The line was a speck in the horizon. You- you just don’t _think_ about what you’re doing, letting your stupid lizard brain take over as soon as you think I might be in the tiniest little bit of trouble and- and-“

Steve found himself running out of anger as he saw Bucky’s face; eyes fixed to the floor and looking more than just a little bit lost as his feet shuffled around on the doorstep. He was like a child being told off by his parent after being caught with his hand in the cookie jar- or fighting in the playground.

“I understand that you’re trying to look out for me,” Steve admitted after a moment, sighing loudly, “and I get that I haven’t been my best this year. But you- you can’t just hide me away from the rest of the world and refuse to let anything unpredictable touch me. I’m my own person and I won’t let you do that.”

“I’m not trying to-“ Bucky began, before growling in frustration and clenching his jaw. “I just… fucked up. I know I did. But I was just… I wanted-“

“I know,” Steve told him, because he understood his best friend well enough to be able to finish that sentence for him in his head. “I know, Bucky.”

There was a long silence; both of them standing off at the door, hands held firmly in pockets or against door-frames. Steve held his resolve for all of three more seconds before huffing irritably and pulling Bucky forward into a tight hug.

“I’m still fucking mad,” he said, voice muffled by Bucky’s T-shirt. Bucky’s arms came around him immediately, holding onto his shoulders and gripping tight.

“I get it, I’m mad at me too,” Bucky said, “and for the record, I _am_ sorry.”

“Good” Steve replied, pulling away, “because I’m gonna need you to repeat that to Tony when you next see him.”

Bucky pulled a face at that. “Really-“

“Bucky,” Steve warned, “we’re not discussing this. You’re going to make it up to him, I don’t care what you think, I won’t have him thinking my best friend is a fucking delinquent.”

Bucky gave him a look and cocked his head. “You really like that guy, don’t you?” He asked gruffly.

Steve looked down, nodding a little. “He’s… something else,” he said softly, repeating the same words Tony had used for him. “He’s also got it into his head that we shouldn’t speak any more, thanks to your show last night, so thanks for that,” he couldn’t help but add snappily. Bucky’s eyebrows rose and he had the decency to look a little ashamed. “Ah- that’s not… that’s not great, is it?” He asked sheepishly.

“No, it Goddamn isn’t,” Steve answered, “but we’re going to fix it. And I swear, if you pull a stunt like that again, I will punch you in the fucking teeth.“

Bucky raised his hands, stepping back slightly. “I promise I’ll do my very best to try wind my neck in in future.”  
Wordlessly, Steve shucked off his coat and stepped through the door, Bucky following on behind him. The door shut and then he felt Bucky’s arm wind around his own, linking them together like they’d used to do when they were kids and both the same height. Now Bucky had to bend in order to get the angle right.

“You know I’m trying to look out for you, right?” Bucky asked anxiously, “I know I’m an asshole and I know I acted like an idiot last night, but I promise, I didn’t mean to- to control you or anything, I just…” he looked down, and then turned to face Steve with a sad smile. “You’re pretty much all I got, pal.”

Steve looked back at him, smiling exasperatedly.  “I know I am,” he said, Peggy’s words ringing in his ear from earlier, “it’s the only reason I showed up, really. Pity is the only emotional motivator here-“

“Oh ha ha,” Bucky said sarcastically, shoving him onto the couch and then jumping on next to him, “I opened up my emotionally stunted heart and you just throw it back in my face like that-“

“Shut up, idiot,” Steve poked him with his foot, “still mad, remember.”

Bucky nodded and sighed. “I’ll make it up to you,” he turned to Steve and put on his most sincere face. “I’ll even apologize to Stark. That’s how much I mean it. Everything will work itself out, I’ll make sure of it”

Steve huffed, rolling his eyes and letting his head drop against the back of the couch. “Funny, that’s what Peggy said.”

“Well, we’re both very wise individuals,” Bucky shrugged and then had the nerve to look offended when Steve burst out laughing. “Hey- I am wise as fuck, I don’t know what you’re grinning for, just because I have a tendency to act like an asshole doesn’t mean I can’t be a wise one-“

“Shut up, Bucky.”

“That’s rude.”

“I’m allowed to be rude, you started a fight with the person who gave me a lift home.”

“You have 24 hours to hold that over my head before I declare it null. You can’t use it against me for the rest of my damn life.”

“24 hours? Don’t make me laugh- that shit was at least a month’s worth of emotional blackmail, come on-“

Bucky shoved him off the couch and Steve yelled indignantly, grabbing a pillow and propelling it into Bucky’s face. The asshole was half-way to a laugh before he noticed Steve’s hand, and the smile promptly died on his face.

“The ring,” he said blankly, eyes zoning in on Steve’s now bare finger, “the… why aren’t you wearing your ring?”

Immediately, Steve felt whatever good mood he’d been working to sour, and he yanked his hand back irritably.  
“They stole it,” he muttered, “when they mugged me. Guess they thought it was valuable.”

Bucky was silent above him, but Steve didn’t look up. His thumb rubbed over the little indent from where ring had met skin, and he hated himself just that little bit more fiercely when he thought about how he could have still been wearing it if he’d have just acted differently. Not been quite such a confrontational idiot about it. Tony was right; if he’d have just given them the money then maybe they would have left. Steve would have been able to pay Natasha back for the money. There was no way to get that ring back.

“Man,” Bucky swallowed and looked down, “I’m so sorry. You must’a put up a heck of a fight for it, though.”

Steve just clenched his jaw. “Not enough, obviously. Still beat my ass. Tony said he would find ‘em, but… I don’t know if he will, now.” He couldn’t help but throw Bucky a slightly bitter look at that. Goddamn idiot had put his foot in it as always, and ruined everything with Tony. Not to mention the chance of him finding the fuckers that took his stuff.

Bucky looked slightly horrified. “I didn’t… God, Steve, I didn’t know, I’m really… fuck. This is all my fault, isn’t it?”

Steve harrumphed and turned away a little. “Kinda,” he said bluntly, “I mean, not the mugging. Just everything that came after would have been remarkably better had you not acted like an asshole, y’know?”

Bucky was silent. When Steve glanced over, he saw the pale, guilty face looking back at him. Bucky obviously felt like shit about this whole thing.

He felt himself sigh. Despite his anger, he couldn’t stand to see Buck like that. “Like you said, though,” Steve shuffled forward, getting back onto the couch and then punching Bucky (not so) lightly in the arm, “it’ll all work itself out. I hope.”

Bucky swallowed and nodded. His eyes went a little harder and he stuck his chin out determinedly. “I’ll make sure of it,” he said firmly.

Steve just laughed and rolled his eyes, sinking back into the couch. “Yeah,” he mumbled, “you do that.”

 

 

 

 _____

 

 

 

 

Walking into school the next day wearing the marks of his earlier confrontation sure earned him a few concerned stares. He was pretty certain his face was a little more purple than what most considered normal, and although Nat had done her hardest to cover it with makeup, the discoloration still showed through obviously. He didn’t care much; he’d dealt with it enough before- but he ducked his head down and tried to avoid the curious eyes anyway. He didn’t exactly fancy trying to explain that he’d had his ass handed to him by a bunch of strangers wanting money.

His eyes lifted a little, unable to stop searching for that recognizable face amongst the hundreds. He knew Tony was in that day; his bike had been parked in its usual place in the parking lot- but so far he’d had no luck in locating the person who drove it. He was distracted a second later anyway, as someone to his left bumped him as they passed. He barely hid the hiss of pain as his aching rib let him know it wasn’t happy with the contact. Although it wasn’t a serious break and would probably stop aching so bad in a week or so, it was still going to be a dick to live with for the next few days of school.

He just wanted to find Tony, goddamn it.

 

Sitting down gingerly at his desk near the back of class, he sighed heavily and rubbed a light hand over the band-aid across his forehead. He could still feel the ghosting sensations of Tony’s fingers placing it there; warm breath against the side of his face as he worked. Every time their fingers brushed or Tony touched him, it felt like an electric shock. He couldn’t get over it- couldn’t get over all the ways in which Tony could drive him crazy without even trying.

Like now, for instance, by completely ignoring Steve’s existence.

He shook his head and pulled out his book from the depth of his bag, trying to focus on the work at hand. He hated math- couldn’t for the life of him understand how all those numbers formed any sort of sensible process- but that was really why he had to concentrate on the lesson, rather than getting so caught up in his own head.

The dull, droning voice of his teacher went through one ear and out the other as Steve stared blankly out of the window into the corridor and tried willing himself to focus. Monday mornings were a terrible invention; the person with that idea really should have thought that through before they’d gone and decided on it.

Someone threw a paper ball at the back of his head and he turned irritably, about to point a very unamused face in the perpetrator’s direction before spotting Carol grinning at him from the other end of the class. How she’d managed to make that shot, he didn’t know.

She cocked her head over to him and mouthed ‘how you doing?’, whilst leaning back on her chair and twirling a pen in her fingers. Steve just shrugged, rolling his eyes a little. ‘Okay’, he replied.

Her chair went back to four legs as she grabbed her notepad and then began to scribble quickly on it. Steve frowned in curiosity, watching her for a few seconds until she lifted up the pad and showed him a very bad stick-figure drawing of what appeared to be Tony, with a massive downturned face. There was an arrow coming from him, leading to the words _‘Rhodey say he V. Upset’_ written in her scrawly writing.

Steve made a helpless gesture with his hands, reaching for his own pad and flipping to a clean sheet before sketching out a messy drawing of his mobile phone with its bunch of unread texts on his side. _‘He’s not answering me!’_ he wrote next to it.

Carol rolled her eyes and pulled a face, looking apologetic. She scratched out something else with her marker, before holding it up and showing him.

_‘Science Club, room 8, straight after school’_

She raised an eyebrow and shrugged. He just looked at it for a second, before putting the details to memory and then nodding, shooting her a thumbs up. She smiled back at him before her attention was turned back to the teacher who had been trying and failing to get her attention for the last thirty seconds.

 

 

Steve turned back to the window, which was about where the whole day started to go downhill.

 

 

It just so happened that the moment he set his eyes back on the outside corridor was the moment he spotted none other than Tony himself, just as he was turning the corner and disappearing from sight entirely. Steve caught the flash of half a face before it was gone, but it was enough. He’d jumped from his seat within a second.  
If he could catch Tony now, there wasn’t much point in wandering around trying to find a room Steve had never been to and hunt down Tony that way, was there?

“Sir!” He called, jumping about theatrically on his feet, “can I please go to the bathroom? I’m really desperate.”

The teacher eyed him up; watching the hopping feet for a second before sighing. “If you’re quick. Pass is on the desk.”

Nodding thankfully, Steve hurried forward and grabbed the pass before speeding out of the room and heading down the corridor. He reached the corner and turned, feet making an obnoxiously loud noise as they scraped against the dirty white tiles.

“Tony!” He called out to the figure as he wandered down the corridors and tapped a knuckle against each locker. “Tony, wait up!”

He saw Tony halt in his footsteps and turn his head, eyes catching Steve’s almost immediately. His features froze up, and then he saw Tony shut his eyes for a moment, rubbing a weary hand over his face. “St-Rogers, now is not the right time, just leave it-“

“I was really worried, dammit,” Steve said quickly, walking further forward, “and you didn’t answer my texts after driving off like that and-“

He noticed Tony looking at him blankly, and couldn’t help feeling like he was going about this wrong. “I’m just… glad you’re okay,” he said, and Tony’s answering face wasn’t exactly comforting.

“Yeah, never better, Rogers,” he said, beginning to turn back away, “go back to class, alright? It’s all good. We’re cool. You did me a favor with Zeke a few days ago, I returned it. Now we’re even, yeah?”

Steve frowned. “Tony- I wanted to apologize-“

“ _Don’t_ ,” Tony said harshly, jaw clenching, “not now, Steve, please, just go back to class, I’m meeting my friends, I don’t have time to hear about how you conveniently forgot to mention your angry boyfriend waiting back home for you while you were with me- and I don’t care either.”

Steve stopped, bewildered. What was Tony talking about?

He moved forward again, but as he did so, several other people rounded the corner behind Tony and set their eyes on him. They were laughing together, loud and abrasive, and Steve recognized them as the people Tony tended to hang out with. It was confirmed when Tony shot Steve one last look and then turned, big fake smile spreading out on his face as he greeted them all.

“Tony,” Steve blurted before he could stop himself, just trying to pull back Tony’s attention for a second, “please just- just let me explain, I told you in the texts I sent, it’s not what you think-“

He watched Tony look rapidly between his friends and Steve for a moment, before swallowing and cutting Steve off with an uncaring wave of his hand. His eyes were cold.  
“Steve, come on- it was one fun night, but that’s it. Just leave it, alright? I’ll call you. Maybe.”

He froze, blinking a few times and trying to work out what Tony was saying whilst his buddies all sniggered behind him. Of course, he wasn’t stupid- he worked it out a second later and took a shocked step backward.  
Tony was making fun of him in front of his friends. Trying to make out like Steve was what, some desperate ex?

 

They were all laughing at him.

 

Feeling a little like he'd just had the rug swept out from underneath him, he huffed, shaking his head and looking back at Tony who just stared impassively back. He thought he saw something flash behind that blue- but it was gone a moment later, and who even cared anyway? Tony had made his stance very fucking clear.

“Right,” he bit, “okay. My bad. I should’ve just listened to everyone’s warnings, shouldn’t I,” he spat the last bit out like a curse, watched Tony flinch at the impact and then smooth out a second later, always under fucking control, never letting anything show for more than one god-damn second.

“Probably,” Tony shrugged, and then one of his friends took hold of his shoulder and started tugging him backward, undoubtedly to the back exit where they’d all go for a quick smoke.

 

God, what had Steve been thinking, trying to get near Tony Stark? Maybe this was just what everyone had been saying- what he was really like. Tony had said it himself- maybe Steve should have listened.

It hurt like a punch to the gut.

He stood there and watched them turn and walk away, a few of them looking to snigger at him as they did so. Tony didn’t turn around once. Just blanked him.

 

Steve stood in the empty hallway for a long time after that, before nodding his head and turning on his heel. The weight inside his chest dragged him down like an iron weight with every step forward.

 

 

 

_____ 

 

 

 

 

It was only when he was walking out of the doors at the end of the day that he remembered he still had Tony’s jacket in his bag.

 

His first instinct was to throw it in the trash, just to spite him. Of course, that didn’t last long- he hated wasting things, and the jacket probably cost a hell of a lot of money. Tony would want it back, and Goddamn it, Steve owed him at least that much. He felt morally obligated- stupid fucking principals, couldn’t just let him be a petty bastard for a single second.

He stopped half-way down the stairs and made a face to no one in particular. He really just wanted to get home and curl up in bed, honestly- maybe with ice cream. And facing Tony after what had happened earlier was just… no.  
But he had to, really.

 

With a deep sigh, he turned around. Carol had said room eight. He assumed that was somewhere down the science corridor, which wasn’t so bad. Thirty seconds away, tops. In and out. Didn’t even have to look at him, if he didn’t want to.

Hiking his bag up irritably, he pushed against the current of students and went back in. The swarm of kids filtered out once he got away from the main exit, leaving him to march down the empty science corridors in relative peace once he reached them. Room six caught his eye, and then room seven-

He stopped at the faded number on the ugly green door and took a breath. _This is probably going to go badly,_ he thought, pushing roughly against the wood until it gave way.

 

He walked into a large room, in which a handful of kids were sat on various chairs, sideboards and even one on the floor. The little Parker kid was the first person he saw; in the middle of making some weird glue stuff out of a bunch of chemicals he probably shouldn’t have been touching. Behind him there was a girl with auburn hair and large glasses- the face brought a name to mind, maybe a Joan or Jane or something. She was laughing with Bruce, both of them leaning in and whispering with one another as they stared at-

 

Steve couldn’t help it. His breath caught in his throat automatically, Tony yet again taking his breath away in the same way he managed to do every time Steve set eyes on him.

 

He was stood by one side of a whiteboard, having what looked to be a pretty heated debate with some other boy on the other end. His marker was flying through the air as he gesticulated wildly, and Steve watched the other gangly boy answer quickly, his own pen scribbling another incomprehensible string of numbers and equation symbols over the already-covered board.

Tony laughed loudly and ran a hand through his hair, sending the boy one of the most condescending looks Steve had ever seen. As he walked forward, he caught the tail end of Tony's conversation. ‘-Reed, when you manage to bend the laws of thermodynamics to your will, please do come back to me with that, but until then there is absolutely no way-“

“You’re only saying that because you’re too dense to see beyond that tiny box your mind is thinking in!” The boy- Reed- yelled back, watching Tony with folded arms as he started scribbling out yet another formula over the board, wiping off one of Reed’s as he did so and then ducking from the angry swipe he got in response. “You are far too cynical, Stark, and your view of the world is entirely human-centric, you believe that everything we think is already correct-“

“The laws of thermodynamics are fundamentally unchangeable, idiot, if we didn’t believe or follow any solid rules then we would never be able to move forward-“

“Oh, so Tony Stark follows the rules now?”

Tony pulled a face and shrugged, looking smug as he muttered “Seguo le regole di tua madre a letto” under his breath and then smiled innocently over to Reed as he spluttered wildly.

“You can’t- it’s not- that doesn’t even… ‘your mom’ jokes are just tasteless, Stark-“

Steve was so caught up in the fact that he’d just heard Tony speaking perfect Italian that he didn’t even notice Peter Parker staring at him. It was only when Peter cleared his throat and chucked a pen at Tony’s head that Steve jerked out of his brief stupor, watching Tony turn around and spot him on the other side of the room.

The smile on his face died, and Steve swallowed. The room went silent.

 

“Steve,” Tony said dumbly, shaking his head, “what are you-“

“Just returning this,” Steve pulled his bag off his shoulder and marched forward, digging his fingers into the opening and tugging at Tony’s jacket. He kept his eyes fixed on Tony’s as he shoved the thing into his chest, hard. “Sorry for being such an inconvenience to you these past few weeks,” he hissed quietly, voice stiff.

Tony caught it wordlessly, swallowing as he stared down at Steve and watched him with his stupid dumb eyes. His mouth opened as if to talk, but nothing came out. He just looked sad again.  
Steve stayed there for a second before pushing off. Everyone in the room was looking at him in surprise.

“It’s better this way,” Tony said softly, and Steve turned his head, looking behind him and over to Tony who was staring at his own jacket and nodding slightly, “he was right. I shouldn’t have… yeah. My mistake.” Tony looked away, pursing his lips.

Steve laughed with no amusement. “Thanks. Glad to be another of Tony Stark’s mistakes.”

He saw Tony shut his eyes. “I didn’t mean… “

He didn’t finish. Steve left it for another second, before nodding and then walking away, any doubts answered for him.  
Tony thought he was a mistake.

The door of the room slammed shut, and Steve resisted the urge to yell into the emptiness in frustration as he stormed down the corridor. Goddamn it, why did he fucking _bother_ , why did he care- too nice, that was his problem, he just blindly trusted people and every goddamn time it led him here-

 

“Hey!”

 

Steve stopped, the high-pitched voice not registering as familiar to him. He turned, hand still at the handle of the door which led out to the parking lot, and spotted the Parker kid panting slightly, a few feet away from him. He must have run to follow Steve out of the room.

“You’re the Steve guy, aren’t you?” Peter asked, straightening up and eyeing Steve curiously, “you’re the one who stopped Tony beatin’ up Zeke that time, right?”

Warily, Steve nodded. Peter copied the motion. “I’ve heard Tony talkin’ about you sometimes you know,” he added, “a coupl’a times when he’s come into science club and he’s been all weird and happy, and we ask him why, and he just kinda shakes his head and smiles and says ‘nothing’, but then one time Bruce saw you talking to him in the parking lot out of the window and when Tony came back in he was doing the smiley thing and we worked out that it must be you, right? Law of probability,” Peter continued, talking fast and rambly at Steve as he just stood there and tried to follow it all.

 

“What- I...why are you here, kid?” Steve asked tiredly, feeling the beginnings of a headache start up behind his forehead.

 

Peter stopped, and then sighed, trying to find the words. “Tony is… weird,” he said in the end. When Steve just raised an eyebrow, the kid hurried to elaborate. “I mean- he’s so… around his so-called buddies, y’know? But then he’s there with us, and he’s… well, you know.”

“I- is that supposed to mean something to me?” Steve asked blankly.

“Look,” Peter stepped forward, “he thinks he’s this terrible person who only deserves to be surrounded by terrible people, and then when the not-so-terrible people come along, he’s all like, ‘oh fuck I gotta make them go away before I hurt them’, right? So he pushes at you or he says something to you, and you think it’s just him being an asshole because _everyone_ says he’s an asshole- but in reality he just… he’s just trying to keep you safe. From him.”

Steve blinked a few times. Peter stared at him intently, skinny arms folded expectantly like he was waiting for Steve to say something. When he didn’t, Peter sighed.

“He met me when I was getting beat up behind school. He was having a smoke, I think, and when he came ‘round the corner he just stared at all three of ‘em for a second, put the cigarette in his mouth and then kicked all their asses without even breaking a sweat. It was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen, actually- but that’s derailing from the point,” Peter waved a hand, “anyway- yeah, afterward he fixed me up and bought me lunch, cuz they’d stolen all my money. He was nice to me- and like, back then, barely anyone was nice to me. But at the end of it, he said it was a one-off thing. That he was only doing it because he didn’t like people taking up his spot.” Peter pulled a face, but then it turned into a grin as he added “it was only a one-off until it became a two-off. Then a three-off. Tony talks the talk, but at the end of the day, he really does care. And eventually, he just gave up trying to pretend he didn’t give a shit about me.”

Steve looked at him, unimpressed. “If you think I’m just gonna stand around and let him treat me like shit until he eventually gets bored of doing that, you got another thing coming, buddy.”

“No no, I didn’t mean-“ Peter huffed and rolled his eyes, and although Steve never ever would, he could see why the kid ended up getting beat up by the bigger kids so often. “Listen. Just… don’t give up on him. Whatever he said, it's bull. He's fronting to stop you getting hurt, to stop _him_ getting hurt, whatever it is- I dunno what's happenin' in his head. But I know he likes you a lot. Because I only see him lookin’ that happy when he’s been around you, or he’s thinkin’ of you. Which means he’s gonna want you to stay away from him, obviously.”

At that, Steve frowned. “Why would he-“

Peter gave him a long look, raising his eyebrows. “He doesn’t think he deserves it, duh. Pretty sure he’s convinced he’s cursed or somethin’- anything that goes near him is destined for a fate worse than death or whatever- like I said, I don’t know what he's thinking,” Peter waved a hand again, frowning.

Again, Steve said nothing. Wasn’t quite sure what to say about the fact a 12-year-old had just laid Tony Stark’s entire character out like that, all for him.

“Just think about it, alright?” Peter asked, biting his lip a little and looking behind him, “he needs someone like you, I think. And he’s fucked up and can be real stupid, but... but as long as I’ve known him, I've never seen him smile like that before. I think it’s time he got a good thing in his life.”

With nothing else to do, Steve just nodded slowly. Seemingly satisfied, Peter uncrossed his arms and then started backing away, saluting Steve as he went. “Gotta get back or I’ll miss Reed blowing a gasket when Tony calls him an unimaginative cretin in French!” He said, skipping down the halls.

“I... I thought it was Italian,” Steve said mostly to himself, hands curled around the strap of his bag as he watched the kid jump up the stairs three at a time.

“Could be either!” Peter said excitedly, and then a second later he was gone.

 

Steve stood there, staring at the space the whirlwind of a child had just vacated with a small crease on his forehead. It seemed he’d just been given relationship advice by a pre-teen.  
Worse, it was actually sort of useful.

Goddamn it.

 

 

 

 

_____

 

 

 

Bucky groaned loudly and let his head sink into the carpet, half his face smushing into his calculus in defeat. Beside him, Steve and Sam did variations of the same thing- Sam took the wall, and Steve rested his head into his hands.

 

"Math is impossible," Sam declared loudly, "it's official. Literally no one on Earth except nerds and Albert Einstein can do this shit."

"Why isn't Albert Einstein classified as a nerd?" Bucky asked from the carpet.

Sam made a face, gesturing vaguely with his hands. "You can't really be a guy like Albert Einstein and also be a nerd, y'know? He was too badass to be a nerd."

"Why couldn't he have been both?" Steve asked, mind wandering unhelpfully over to a room full of blueprints and a jacket full of cigarettes. "They're not always mutually opposed."

Sam made another face, obviously not in the mood for discussion about the subject. Steve couldn't blame him- if he and Sam didn't finish the homework, they'd both be getting sixty-minute detentions. And no one wanted sixty-minute detentions with their math teacher, the guy was a fucking tyrant when it came to completion of work. Bucky might not have been going to their school, but the work he was having to do was pretty much the same thing, and so they’d agreed last night to all pile their brains together and try help one another out.  
So far, the plan had been going pretty… bad.

 

“You know what I think we should do?” Bucky lifted his head up suddenly, hair falling messily into his eyes, “I think we should have a food break. To sustain our minds, etcetera etcetera.”

“Uh, no- bad idea-“ Steve began, but he was drowned out by Sam’s loud agreements, and only sighed when he watched both his friends push themselves out of their chairs and begin to go pilfering the cupboards. At least Steve had _some_ resolve- he would keep working, absolutely no distractions, not even tempted by the smell of popcorn beginning to pop in the kitchen-

“Fuck you both!” Steve called angrily, rubbing his fingers over his eyelids and telling himself that now was very much not the appropriate time for popcorn. Now was the time for work. And math. Yes.

He heard Sam and Bucky begin to mess around in the other room, and threw a pillow at the door in order to shut off the noise. It didn’t do much good- Sam’s walls were notoriously thin- and he cursed in annoyance, knowing he would only last so long before he gave up completely and went to join them, detention be damned. Once his ass left the vicinity of that homework, it wasn’t going back.

He heard someone knock on the door, and checked his watch. Natasha, undoubtedly- there to try and offer them whatever aid she could. Possibly in the form of Russian Vodka- although Steve would not be participating in the consumption of that. It tasted like nail varnish remover. Either Sam or Bucky opened the door, and a few seconds later Steve heard the room opposite go mysteriously silent.

He furrowed his brow and looked back downward, pen millimeters away from touching paper before he was interrupted by Sam’s very loud “STEVE, GET IN HERE!”

He paused, and then answered “UNLIKE SOME PEOPLE, I ACTUALLY WANT TO WORK!”  
Ha. Yeah right.

“SOMEONE’S HERE TO SEE YOU!” Sam answered, and then over the sound of popping corn Steve found himself listening to the muffled, smooth voice that rang familiarly in his ears.

 

He dropped his pen. Opened his mouth in shock.

 

“STEVE!” Sam called again, “ _BEFORE_ HE RUNS OFF, PLEASE!”

Without waiting another second, Steve got slowly to his feet and made his way to the door. Just as his hand curled around the handle, however, it was pulled open for him, and Steve looked on in surprise at Sam’s impatient face as he was tugged from the living room and then pushed through corridor hurriedly, until landing his feet on the other side of the room to Tony.

 

Tony.  
Again.  
Tony Tony Tony Tony, why did it always come back to him? Steve could barely go a day without something happening that involved that stupid boy.

 

The stupid boy in question was stood at the threshold of the door, looking supremely awkward as he stared into the kitchen and across all three of them. When his eyes caught Steve’s, he shuffled back on his feet and looked down. Steve noticed in shock, that in the space between going to school that day and turning up here, Tony had managed to accumulate about a dozen more scrapes and bruises. He looked as if he was leaning a little more on his left side.

Steve also noticed he had a bunch of things in his hands.

Steve’s things.

 

“That’s my jacket,” he said dumbly, blinking a few times as he registered the dark red button-up Tony had strung over his forearm. “Why… but they took that.”

Tony opened his mouth a little, but then just nodded instead. He kept glancing awkwardly between Steve and his two friends, who had sat themselves on the counter and were watching them blatantly. Sam was throwing bunches of popcorn into his mouth.

“Guys,” Steve turned to them sharply, “Bye.”

“Bye?” Bucky started, before realization dawned and he looked sullen. “But I wanna w-“

 _“Bye,”_ Steve said, louder that time.

Bucky huffed, but jumped off the counter all the same. He eyed Tony as he walked back into the living room, but didn’t say anything else. Sam followed a few seconds after, leaving Tony and Steve facing off on opposite sides of the kitchen.

“You can come in, you know,” Steve said, making an awkward gesture with his hand.

Tony shook his head stiffly. “I’m not- I’m not staying long,” he said, and then held out his hands, showing off the bunch of stuff to Steve. “Here,” he jigged them a bit, “uh- your stuff. I found it.”

Steve eyed it blankly. It didn’t… it didn’t make sense. Why was Tony- _how_ did Tony- what was Tony-

“You, uh- you gonna take them or…?” Tony asked, cocking his head a little, and the gesture was oddly familiar- like he was trying to work Steve out again.

“You got it back,” Steve stated, taking a step forward, “you went after it. Is that- is that where the…“ he gestured to the various bruises over Tony’s general vicinity.

Tony just shrugged. “Thugs don’t give up easy,” he explained, and then held up a finger in sign for Steve to wait a moment as his other hand began digging into the pocket of his jeans.

Steve watched him, still frozen a few feet from him as Tony shuffled around and searched for something in each pocket, before grinning in triumph a second later as he pulled his hand out from the pocket of his jeans and held up-

 

“took a bit of a while to track it down,” Tony said, voice going a little softer as he rolled the silver ring between his fingers and then looked back up to Steve. His eyes were gentle, and he even smiled slightly. “But I got it in the end.”

 

Without even meaning to, Steve suddenly found himself an inch and a half from Tony. He barely even registered it; hands going up for the ring and then slipping it back onto his thumb where it belonged, feeling the cool metal against skin like a long lost friend.

He blinked, feeling a lump in his throat. “You… you did this for me,” he said so quietly he wondered if Tony even heard.

“Well- I promised, didn’t I?” Tony replied delicately, and when Steve looked up, he was smiling downward at Steve. It didn’t last long; gone once he realized Steve had caught him- but the memory lingered in Steve’s mind, and more than anything he wanted to put it back there. It was an almost irrational desire- even after what had happened, even though it really shouldn’t matter that much- Steve just wanted him to smile.

“Why did you say that stuff,” he blurted, “why did you…yesterday. In the hall. With your friends.”

There was a long silence, Tony stiffening in front of him quickly and brutally. His face blanked, and Steve felt like an idiot.

He shook his head and laughed a little, turning away. “Jesus, I sound so pathetic,” he muttered. “Look- it doesn’t matter. I’m… thank you for what you did for me. Thank you for getting the ring. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it-“

“I’m an asshole, Steve.”

He stopped, turning around again and looking over to Tony. There was a sad smile on his face, and when he looked at Steve, there was so much behind those eyes, even if it was only fleeting.

“I’m an asshole,” he repeated, “and you don’t- you don’t wanna be getting caught up with me, Steve. Believe me. I was… I was being selfish, okay, but your b- but I realized that Barnes had a point. I _am_ dangerous. It’s just better for everyone if y-“

 

“Alright, I’m gonna have to step in here-“ and Steve turned, watching in surprise as suddenly Bucky stormed back into the room, slamming open the door dramatically as he entered.

 

Steve yelped and Tony stepped back, eyes instantly wary. “I didn’t come for a fight, Barnes,” he began, but Bucky just waved him off, immune to both Steve and Sam’s calls as he marched forward.

“Neither did I, surprisingly. I promise I won’t put a hand on you, Stark- I just wanna talk,” Bucky said, raising his palms in a show of peace as he passed Steve.

“Bucky-“ Steve began warningly, but his best friend turned quickly to him and shot him a look that said a lot of things in a very short space of time. Mostly just ‘trust me’.

With an anxious sigh, Steve did.

Tony was still glaring grimly at Bucky. “I don’t actually feel in the mood to listen to you verbally piss all over your territory, thanks-“

“ _Please_ ,” Bucky said to him, and he didn’t even sound confrontational. Steve’s brow creased as he watched him; actually looking remorseful and smiling nervously over at Tony. “Just a minute of your time, I swear.”

There was a moment’s worth of silence before Tony eventually nodded once. He put down Steve’s things on the doormat gently, and then looked to Bucky.

“Outside?” Bucky gestured to the door, and Tony looked even more suspicious at that, but Bucky just huffed in amusement, “thin walls, dude- how do you think I managed to pick my moment so gracefully? I’d rather people didn’t eavesdrop in on this, though.”

Steve made a face, but Sam started tugging at his elbow gently, pulling him back in the direction of the living room. “Just let him do his thing, man,” he whispered, “he wants to make this right. At least let him try.”

Dubious look etched on his face, Steve stayed where he was for one more second, before catching Tony’s eye. “You want him to talk, or would you rather I dragged him back inside and thwacked him over the back of the head?” He asked.

Tony cracked a smile, but shrugged. “He wants to talk, I’ll talk. He wants to fight- I can do that, too. I’m easy.” He winked on autopilot a the choice of words, but Steve got the message and began backing away worriedly.

 

The last thing he saw before Bucky jumped out and shut the door behind him was his best friend’s reassuring smile.  
So sue him, but Steve didn’t end up feeling all that assured by it.

 

He and Sam waited impatiently in the living room for a few minutes; Steve glancing up at the door every other second to check. Sam poked him in the shoulder and told him not to worry.

“Just do your homework or something,” he suggested, whilst Steve scoffed loudly and obviously to his left, “they’ll be done sorting their shit soon- you know Bucky, he can’t hold a grudge for shit.”

Steve nodded tightly. The homework part of the sentence was a joke, but the rest was true. Bucky wouldn’t lie to him- he wasn’t looking for a fight. He’d said he’d try and make things right for Steve and he knew that he meant it.

 

They both sat there, thinking aloud as to what was taking them both so long- until a minute or so later when they heard the door open again, and two voices filter through the house.

They sounded… like they were laughing?

Steve leaped to his feet, frown heavy on his face, but before he could even run out of the room Bucky pushed open the door and joined them instead.  
Beside him, Tony.

Bucky was also sporting a pretty spectacular bloody nose.

“It’s all good,” Bucky waved off the gasp of horror from Steve, “I told him to do it. To even out the score, y’know? I think I deserved at least one punch.”

“That was me being generous,” Tony muttered under his breath, but when Bucky glanced over at him he grinned a bit, and Steve just frowned harder.

“So, what, you’re friends now?” He asked incredulously.

Tony and Bucky looked at each other for a second, before shrugging. “We’re not… enemies,” Tony explained slowly, whilst Bucky nodded.

Steve looked at them both. “Right,” he said slowly, wondering what happened now. Bucky; seemingly catching the same strain of thought as Steve, patted Tony on the shoulder and then shoved him forward a little so that he was stood in front of Steve.

The boy looked nervous again. Steve noticed that his ears were going a little pink. Yet again, Steve marveled at the complete 180 Tony’s personality made when he wasn’t performing for everyone. This was barely even recognizable to the boy he saw wandering the corridors or smoking a cigarette whilst stood on top of the principal’s desk just to make a statement.

“I-“ Tony began, swallowing. His hands tapped restlessly by his side and his eyes flew around the room, stopping briefly at the work scattered around the floor, before finally ending up back on Steve. “If I help you with your homework, you fancy calling it even?” He asked quietly. His smile was small, nervous.

Steve didn’t quite know what to say- not entirely sure where any of this was even heading, to be honest- so Tony cleared his throat and spoke again, head nodding over to the sheet of paper hanging precariously off the edge of the armrest. “Uh- first answer’s square root of 387 divided by 3b?” He tried, finger-tapping increasing marginally.

Tony Stark was nervous.

Sam made his presence known by coughing loudly in surprise. “Fuck, man, are you serious? Did you just… oh, did you get the answers from the teachers? Shit, that’s probably useful as fuck” he said excitedly, jumping to his feet.

Tony glanced at Steve for a moment, before shrugging. “Something like that,” he told Sam as the boy grabbed his arm and dragged him further in, sitting him down on the couch and promptly dropping the pile of books on his lap.  
“Okay, Steve forgives you, you forgive Steve, both of you are best buddies again, blah blah- now how the fuck do you do question number four? I got like, halfway there before bursting into tears-“ Sam talked rapidly to Tony, who just blinked a few times in surprise and then looked over to Steve again, face open and questioning.

 

Steve shrugged, unable to keep the smile down. Tony returned it.  
He felt the familiar flipping sensation in the pit of his stomach, and warmth pooled inside him.

 

Turning unsteadily, he made his way into the kitchen, feeling a little as if he was in a daze. Tony had come to his house- he’d got his ring back for him, Jesus Christ, the marks on his face showed how much it must have cost him to do that.  
Tony was crazy. That was the only explanation. Blowing hot one moment and cold the next- Steve just couldn't fucking work him out.

“What the hell did you say to him to make him stay?” Steve asked, not bothering to look up from the cupboards he was digging into, knowing it was Bucky from his footsteps alone.

“The truth,” Bucky told him, tapping the first-aid kit against Steve’s bent head and then letting it fall into Steve’s hands, “that I was wrong. That you liked him and were super angry at me when I dicked around last week.”

He paused for a moment and then huffed. “When that didn’t work, I pulled out my A-game and told him you needed as much support you could get, and if he cared about you at all, he’d stick around and look out for you.”

Steve made a face. “Bucky-“

“Hey, he’s here, isn’t he?” Bucky said, eyes widening. Steve continued to look sullen, he huffed in exasperation. “Look, Stevie, whether it’s true or not- the point is he’s sat on your couch right this minute and you can start falling at my feet in thanks any moment now-“

Steve snorted and threw a bandage at the gap between his eyes, before catching it swiftly and then turning back to the sink in order to fill up a bowl of warm water. He could sense the pout his best friend was making behind him, so he rolled his eyes and turned around again.

“Thank you,” he said honestly, before flicking droplets of water on Bucky’s face and grinning, “-jerk.”

Before Bucky could retaliate, he ducked around him and made his way back into the living room where Tony and Sam were waiting, wandering into the room and catching Tony on the tail-end of what appeared to be a pretty in-depth explanation.

Sam was staring at him with a frown on his face, fingers locked under his chin. Tony had his legs crossed and was sat in front of Sam, finger tapping underneath an equation as he looked over at the other boy expectantly.

There was a moment of silence, and then Tony sighed. “Too fast?” He asked.

“You lost me around ‘so to start with-’” Sam admitted, and Tony shut his eyes for a second before letting out a bark of laughter. Steve chose that moment to intervene; walking into the center of the floor where both boys were sat and then clearing his throat.

“Alright Sam,” Steve pushed his forehead back, sending him rolling across the floor, “time’s up. My turn now.”  
Even as he said the words, he knew that a blush was beginning to creep across his face; could feel the heat as it tingled around his cheeks.

Tony watched him as he sat in Sam’s spot, his legs crossed and knees just touching Tony’s own on the floor. He knew Tony was smiling, but he looked down as he placed the bowl of water down to his left and the first-aid kit on the opposite side.

“Are you ever _not_ some shade of red?” Tony asked quietly, and when Steve glanced up at him he saw he was holding back on another laugh, lips pursed and eyes looking down at him softly.

“Shush,” Steve told him, as if that were some sort of answer, “it’s my turn to fix you up now. You just-“

“Sit there and look pretty?” Tony finished for him, and Steve sighed.

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Hey,” Sam called, “you can sit there and look pretty and run through the last question with me at the same time, right?”

“ _Sam_ -“ Steve started in exasperation, but Tony just shook his head at Steve and smiled.

“Sure. How slowly do you want me to talk this time?” He asked, cocking his head as Steve began to pull out the rather musty-looking bandages from Sam’s first aid supplies.

Sam pulled a wry grin, shrugging. “Imagine I’m Steve and I _desperately_ need your h-“

He was cut off when both Steve and Bucky launched projectiles in his direction- a pillow from Bucky and a bottle of antiseptic from Steve. When he turned back around, Tony’s smile seemed as if it was sticking to his face a little bit. He glanced over to Bucky for a moment before turning head down again. Sensing he wasn’t exactly in the mood for jokes, Steve shot Sam a warning glare. Sam seemed to realize, though, and quickly held up his hands. “Okay, okay- just go gently on me, Tony, alright? It’s my first time with Advanced Trigonometry.” He batted his eyelashes, and Tony chuckled quietly.

“Don’t worry darling, I know exactly what I’m doing- it’ll be fun, I promise,” he said smoothly, and Steve was glad he had his head bent over, because he was pretty sure those words alone had turned him firetruck red, and he was talking about fucking _math_ , Jesus Christ, Tony managed to make _math_ sound sexy-

He shook himself, concentrating on the task at hand as Tony began to explain over Steve’s shoulder. He saw those pesky hands start up; rising from his lap to begin waving around, and on instinct, Steve grabbed for them- he needed to ice the red knuckles.

Tony’s voice cut off with what could only be described as a strangled squeak, and Steve looked up just as Tony looked down, eyes wide and blinking hastily at their suddenly joined hands.

“Sorry,” Steve let go, embarrassed, “I just… your knuckles-“

“Ah right, I- yeah, no, sorry, go ahead,” Tony stumbled quickly, pushing his hand back into Steve’s and then taking another breath. He started up his conversation with Sam again; letting Steve gently work through the injuries in the same way Tony had done for him the first time around. When he got to Tony’s face, he had to shuffle around a bit; getting up on his haunches in order to clean up the stray patches of blood and fix band-aids over the cuts. Unlike Tony, his first aid kit did not come with ice packs, and the two he’d managed to rig up were currently resting over Tony’s knuckles with strict instructions not to move them when he was talking, so Steve couldn’t do much about the deeper bruises. He decided staring at them in disapproval would have to be enough for the moment.

Steve noticed Tony’s breath catching every time his fingers brushed against his face. He didn’t say anything, though. Just tucked it away and saved it like it was precious.

 

It didn’t take long for him to finish up- Tony had done most of the work himself at some point, it seemed. But it made feel Steve a little better anyway- it was the least he could do, considering Tony had yet again put everything on the line in order to do something for Steve.

“Thank you,” he murmured suddenly, frown springing to his face, “did I say that already? I really hope I did- I mean it. Thank you so much. You’ve been… amazing. Really. I feel kinda terrible; I mean I’ve been asking you to do all this shit for me and then-“

“Hey, hey,” Tony’s mouth turned upward, and he looked sideways to Steve, raising an eyebrow, “in all fairness, I promised to get all your stuff back of my own accord. Everything I’ve done for you has been of my own accord, actually, so don’t go getting all guilty on me Rogers. I think after acting like an asshole yesterday, I'm sort of deserving of the ass-beating I got.”

Steve pulled a face, and when he glanced around he realized in surprise that both Bucky and Sam had left the room. Probably for another food break or something.  
It was just him and Tony.

“I’m sorry, by the way,” Tony added, and he looked down at his hands at that. “For what I said. I was… it was childish and stupid. I wasn't thinking right- the morning had just gone shitty and my Dad had been on my ass and then there was _you_ , and I was just thinking..." he broke off, shaking his head. " -And yeah. I was an asshole and I shouldn’t have-“

Steve waved him off with a roll of his eyes. “You think I don’t already know that? I know what you were trying to do, Tony- Peter Parker was happy to give me the low-down about your character profile as I was storming out of the science labs the other night.”

Tony froze. Then he sighed deeply, pursing his lips tight together. “I am going to kill that little bastard one day, you know.”

“Not according to him, you’re not.”

“What did he say?” Tony whipped around, “I bet it was something dumb. He’s dumb and actually got dropped on the head as a baby, his aunt even told me herself, you really shouldn’t listen to anything he says-“

“if I hadn’t, I might not even have let you in the door,” Steve told him wryly, and Tony stopped at that, opening his mouth as if wanting to argue before realizing that Steve was probably right.

He looked over at the wall stubbornly. “Maybe he’s a little bit clever, then,” he admitted sullenly.

Steve just smiled, sitting back a little. Tony turned to face him, hunching his knees up to his chest and then wrapping his arms loosely around them. “Do I look good as new?” He asked.

No, was the answer.

“Sure,” Steve shrugged non-committedly, and Tony looked at him in a way that let Steve knew he was fully aware Steve was lying through his teeth but was pleased about it anyway.

They looked at each other silently for a few seconds; Steve barely even managing to find it in himself to be embarrassed. There was just something about Tony that made him want to stare and stare and stare. He hadn’t touched his sketchbook since- well, about six months- but whenever he watched Tony move, or saw him smile, or just stared at him like he was now… it all came back. Like a wave. He just wanted to sit Tony down and draw every part of him; the bow of his lips and the curve of his smile and the angles of his beautiful hands-

 

He jumped at the sound of Bucky coming back into the room in his usual brash manner; marching forward until his thighs hit the armrest and he fell face-first into the cushions. Tony blinked, and then dragged his eyes away from Steve, shaking himself a little. “oh- Figlio di _puttana”_ he muttered to himself as he ran a hand over his face.

Steve frowned. He couldn’t tell exactly what that meant, but it sure sounded like a swear word. “You okay, Tony?” He asked.

Tony looked up, smiling again, if a little tighter. “Mm,” he nodded, and then got slowly to his feet, “but I just- I should probably go. It’s getting late. I’m supposed to be meeting people like-“ he glanced down at his watch and then raised his eyebrows, “-an hour ago.”

 

Steve couldn’t help but grimace a little. He didn’t like Tony’s friends. They weren’t real- that much was obvious from the get-go. And Tony always wound himself tighter around them. They were just… bad.

 

“You can stay a little longer if you want,” Steve offered, and Tony softened again when he looked back to him. His gaze fluttered over to Bucky on the couch, and he huffed, turning away.  
“I feel like I’m intruding a little,” he admitted, and then before Steve could rebuke his concerns, Tony was already making his way across the room. “I really should go, anyway. Drinks are on me tonight- they’ll all be waiting,” he informed Steve cheerfully.

“When are the drinks _not_ on you, just out of curiosity?” Steve asked lightly.

Tony stopped at the door of the living room. He looked down and smiled. “Perks of being a billionaire, Rogers,” he said softly; the same thing he’d said that night at the party, when he’d clicked a finger and cleared a room- everyone seemed to caught up in the dollar signs that surrounded him, it was actually…

Well. It was sad.

A lot of things about Tony were sad, though.

 

“If you say so,” Steve shrugged, following Tony as he walked out of the door. In the kitchen they saw Sam busy making dinner, and he and Tony said their goodbyes to one another happily, with Sam promising to return the favor of homework help whenever he needed it. Tony smiled genuinely, like there would ever be a moment in which he would ever need homework help, and then turned to the front door.

“Thank you, again,” Steve blurted, because he felt like he was never going to be able to stop saying it, “for getting back my ring. It really- it means a lot to me. My mom… she would’a liked you a lot, I think.”

Tony paused, huffing out a breath of laughter. He turned a little; a hand reaching under his collar and pulling out a small chain. There was what looked to be one half of a crescent moon attached to the end of it- simple, but obviously expensive. Valuable. When his fingers curled around the thing on the end of the chain, they stroked across the surface with such delicacy- love. Steve watched it with curious eyes.

“I understand,” Tony told him with a small smile, “I...I think my mom would have liked you a lot too, Steve.” 

 

Before Steve could even fully process what Tony had just said, he turned the handle and then slipped out, waving once behind him, then turning and disappearing into the darkness.

 

“So,” Sam began from behind him, making him spasm in surprise, “Tony Stark.”

Dumbly, Steve nodded. “Tony Stark,” he agreed quietly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was mostly a dialogue-based explanation chapter. Grittier stuff will probably come next. Also, just so you know-  
> Reed: Oh, so Tony Stark follows the rules now?  
> Tony: *In italian* I follow your mom's rules in bed
> 
> And-
> 
> "Figlio di puttana” = son of a whore


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so due to the fact that I am notoriously terrible with timelines and also am British, i fucked up with the scheduling of the school holiday in America and stuff, which has resulted in steves birthday being the 12th of september. just roll with it.

He was halfway through a mouthful of his burger when a hand slapped down on his table and interrupted him.

 

“What the fuck,” he blurted, jumping suddenly and turning around, then raising his eyebrows over to Tony. “Oh. Hello?”

“Stop trying to give me money, Rogers,” Tony raised his hand and left the ten bucks that Steve had slid into the leather jacket on the table, “this is a fight you will not win.”

Under the table, someone nudged his leg. He kicked out randomly and then heard Clint wince in front of him. “We are going to keep doing this until you just give in and let me pay the bill, Tony-“

“Uh, we are going to keep going until _you_ give in and let _me_ pay, actually,” Tony dived in and stole a chip from his plate before he even had time to counter, and then threw it into his mouth with a wry grin. “So just keep the money and leave me be.”

“I think you should take his advice, personally,” Clint piped up, and Steve kicked out again, but this time all he got was a rather hurt-sounding Sam. “Money is being offered to you and you’re turning it down? Don’t be a fool. I’m Clint by the way,” he waved up to Tony and gave a little salute, which Tony returned with a small smile.

“Listen to your friend, Steven,” Tony nodded over to him and then took a step backward- only to be tackled from behind by an enthusiastic Thor and hoisted into the air with ease. Steve jumped again, startled by the sudden presence, but Thor just gave him a grin and then twirled Tony around a few times, happily ignoring the boy’s annoyed cries.

“Hello, Steve!” He said joyfully, “I was just looking for Tony. Thank you for finding him for me- I hope you’re feeling well?” He asked, craning his head around Tony’s stomach in order to look in concern at Steve. No doubt he was thinking back to their last meeting.

Steve nodded with a smile. “Top of the world, thanks,” he answered, and Thor laughed his own response before dropping Tony with a thud.

The boy landed clumsily, hand reaching for Steve’s shoulder to balance himself. “I hate Thor, actually,” Tony leaned down and told him, whilst Steve just attempted not to shiver at Tony’s hand so near his neck, “he’s the worst out of all of them, he’s only here to toss me around like his own personal ragd-“

He let out a rather ungainly yelp as Thor hauled him up once more, and Steve shouldn’t have been laughing, really, but it was just so amusing to watch someone like Tony being hoisted around the air as if he didn’t weight a thing. God only knew how strong Thor must have been to do that- Steve would probably just crush himself if he ever attempted anything like it.

Eventually, a teacher yelled at them from across the cafeteria and Thor dropped Tony again, face sullen. Tony shot him a particularly scathing look, hitting him once in the arm before turning back around to Steve. “As I was saying, I hate Thor. He’s a terrible person.”

Somehow, looking at the excited boy as he swooped down and smacked a large kiss against Tony’s cheek, Steve doubted that. “Sure, Tony,” he said through a small laugh that was hidden by his hand- and Tony grinned back at him for a second, before ducking low and dodging another of Thor’s kisses. “No, leave me alone, you brute, I don’t want your love!”

Thor glanced at the group, nodding solemnly. “He is a liar,” he stated, “My love is wanted by all.”

“Much as I am having fun here,” Natasha interrupted wryly, leaning forward on her hand and looking at the two new boys curiously,  “can I ask what both of you are doing here? You don’t usually step foot in the cafeteria.”

Both Thor and Tony pulled the same face at the same time. “We’re hiding,” Tony admitted in the end, and Thor nodded again. “From evil forces,” he added.

“Do I want to know?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow.

Tony huffed, leaning forward against the table again. Steve noticed a chain flash around his neck; the same one as what he’d shown Steve yesterday. “Fucking _Sunset_ ,” he said with a sigh, then another unimpressed look in Thor’s direction as he added “and his idiot brother.”

Steve looked confused, but the rest of his friends just ‘ahhed’ in understanding. When he turned to them curiously, they all shook their heads. “The evilest girl to walk on Earth and the most dramatic boy in the universe are currently in the middle of a bitchfight- again,” Sam told him.

“What’s that- third time this month?” Natasha asked.

“Fourth,” Clint corrected her through a mouthful of food and then turned to both Tony and Thor, “why does it mean you two have to hide though?”

Thor sighed deeply and then joined Tony in leaning on the table despairingly. “Because when those two go off, they undoubtedly end up dragging everyone else along with them. More so in my case, because he’s my fucking brother,” Thor muttered, “but not this time. I refuse to get evil-eyed by Bain for the next three weeks. I’m staying out of it.”

“And I just wanted to give you some money,” Tony added helpfully.

Steve snorted and then picked up the ten dollars from the table. He glanced at it for all of a second before launching forward and shoving it down Tony’s collar, which earnt him a horrified yelp and a quite adorable spasm as his fingers tickled the back of his neck.

“Hey!” Tony yelped, hand shoving down his own collar and trying to retrieve the money, “I hate you. I hate all of you, Jesus, all my friends just bully me- look here, Rogers, take my fucking m-“

Steve laughed and grabbed Tony’s wrists as they came out of his shirt and then pushed the money back in Steve’s direction. He grappled with the idiot for a few seconds, before Tony won out and pushed him backward, grabbing both his wrists and holding them down as he shoved the note unceremoniously into the pocket of Steve’s-

 

“Hey, Tony, Thor- didn’t expect to see you two hanging around here.”

 

As soon as they heard the voice, he felt Tony stiffen against him. Steve watched his face drop, and then turn a little irritated as he sighed and released Steve’s hands. “Hey Ty,” he said, looking up and over Steve’s head to where a boy was stood with his arms folded, watching them curiously.

Steve narrowed his eyes a little as he gave him the once-over. He’d seen the guy around; hung out with Tony and his group sometimes. His hair was a dirty blonde, longer than Steve’s and slicked back. He dressed expensive- designer clothes without a stain or thread loose.

 _‘Twat’,_ came Peggy’s voice in his ear. Steve was rather inclined to agree. His inner Peggy was rarely wrong.

“What are you doing?” Ty asked lightly, flicking his gaze down to Steve. He watched as the boy’s lip curled a little and resisted the urge to stand up and jump immediately into a confrontation. It was just a look- and he was Tony’s friend.

Or not- based on the way both Tony and Thor were looking at him, he guessed there was some sort of tension there.

“I’m just giving something back,” Tony told him lightly, shrugging, “catching up and stuff. Shouldn’t you be over on the quad- thought you enjoyed watching Loki and Sunset argue?”

Ty smiled and then cocked his head back in Steve’s direction. “What’s your name?” He asked politely, but Steve couldn’t help feeling his hackles rise all the same.

“Steve,” he said shortly. “Steve Rogers.”

Ty just observed him for another second, before turning away again with an indifferent shrug. “Haven’t heard of you before,” he said, eyes going back to Tony, “but Tony has, apparently. That’s nice. Branching out a bit, are we Tones? Getting bored of the rest of us?”

“Oh, shut up Tiberius,” Thor interrupted with a roll of his eyes, kicking up his legs and resting them on a spare seat as he folded his arms and glared up at the other boy, “just go watch the fight and leave Tony alone. You heard him the first eight million times, right? He isn’t interested.”

Steve felt his dislike of Ty knock up a few levels higher as he turned, looking at Tony in concern. Tony himself was busy hitting Thor in exasperation and then turning back, staring firmly over Steve’s shoulder and avoiding his gaze.

“Just…” Tony sighed and then stood up, pushing off the table, “just come on, Ty, let’s go watch Loki rip the metaphorical heart out of Bain again-“

“Tony-“ Thor started, but Tony turned to him and shot a warning look over Steve’s head; shaking his head sharply. Thor shut his mouth, but didn’t look happy about it as he watched Tony shove his hands nonchalantly and then spring next to Ty.

Steve watched him go, and Tony caught his eye for a second; shooting off one last shortened smile before turning away and falling into step with Tiberius. When Steve glanced back around, Thor had a face like thunder.

“What the fuck was that?” Sam asked, looking over to Thor who just shook his head and sighed.

“It was an asshole living up to his title as- well an asshole,” Thor responded. Steve, who had been watching Tony and Ty until the moment they turned the corner, finally turned back around fully, a deep frown on his face.

That guy certainly _felt_ like an asshole. Steve was good at sensing that sort of thing.

“Why does Tony like him, then?” He asked, but Thor just shook his head and then sat properly again, looking at all of them gravely.

“He doesn’t,” Thor explained, “they’re just… complicated. Used to be best friends, they’ve kind of grown up around eachother. Tiberius’ parents are close with Tony’s father- that’s the only reason Tony puts up with his idiocy, because if he pisses him off too much then the bastard will go tattle to Howard,” Thor spat, and then rolled his eyes as he added “plus, they’d been on-and-off for years before the start of this semester. Ty can’t seem to get the message that Tony isn’t interested in him anymore. He’s just… a dick.”

Yeah. Steve definitely didn’t like him. He turned back around again, looking at the place he’s last seen the both of them and grimaced.

“You should kick his ass,” Clint said, and Thor spun around on the chair and beamed over to him when Clint waved his fork in his general direction.

“One day, friend,” Thor sighed happily, eyes glazing over as he began to daydream, “one day he’ll make me angry when he’s near a trash can, and I will fulfill the lifelong dream of throwing him into the garbage where he belongs.”

“that’s a lifelong dream?” Sam said, and when Thor nodded, he just shrugged. “I- fair enough. You do you, man, I guess.”

Thor sighed again, and then pushed himself away from the table. “I should probably go after them,” he said with a huff, before adding mutinously “and stop my brother from getting suspended. Again.”

Steve just nodded. “Look after him, yeah?” he asked Thor quietly, and the boy looked down at him with something soft on his face as he patted Steve’s cheek good-naturedly.

“I shall do my very best,” Thor told him, “long as you do the same for yourself. Tony told me to look out for you- I intend to follow through.”

Steve rolled his eyes and pushed Thor’s stomach, although it didn’t exactly do much. Someone who could bodily lift Tony off the ground with ease wasn’t exactly going to be swayed by his stick-thin arms. “I’ll be fine, tell him to stop worrying.”

Thor laughed as he backed off and sauntered away. “Oh, Steve,” he shot back, head turning to look at him for a moment, “I’m not sure he’s stopped worrying about you since the moment you met.”

And then he was pushing through the crowds, leaving Steve and his friends behind- the last thing they all saw before he was lost to the masses was his bouncy little ponytail. Steve watched him leave the way Tony and Tiberius had; crowds parting instinctively to let him through.

 

“If you keep making friends with the popular kids, you’re gonna push us up the hierarchy without even meaning to, Rogers,” Clint kicked him again, and Steve jumped, swinging back around to level Clint with a glare.

“I don’t think he can help it,” Natasha said, and when Steve looked over to her, she was smiling softly, “pretty sure you’re irrevocably drawn toward chaos, aren’t you?”

He was about to argue- but then he thought about his track record; of Bucky and Peggy and every other person he’d been told to stay away from- and promptly shut his mouth with a clack, choosing to sigh irritably instead.

They may have had a point.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

The rest of the week was… not good.

 

He never knew what triggered it. Never really understood why some days he could get up and live his life like everything was fine, everything was normal, and then other days the pressure and grief just consumed him like a tsunami. It didn’t make sense to him, and it was one of the only things in his life that he felt he couldn’t control. Couldn’t seem to stop, no matter how hard he tried. He just… woke up, and that was it. The day was decided for him.

He really fucking hated it.

 

He woke up late for school and didn’t even care. Turned up forty minutes into first period and sat at his desk silently for the remainder of the lesson. Then sat in the bathroom for break, knees curled up to his chest and face impassive as he stared at the door. He didn’t bother going to the late detention that night, either, even though he knew it would only make things worse. He just couldn’t find it in himself to care.

And that was just Tuesday.

 

It was sort of funny, really. From an objective viewpoint, he knew it was stupid. The truth that was hurting him now wouldn’t change in a week, it hadn’t been different a few days ago- but today it was all-encompassing. Today it was impossible to ignore. He was weak, pathetic, cowardly for giving into it. For blanking his friends and not even letting them know why. For letting it affect his schoolwork, his attendance. He knew all that, and the worst thing was, he just didn’t care.

 

His therapist tried, he knew she did. But despite all the talks on positive thinking and calming techniques, they still may as well have been spoken to a brick wall when he was in the middle of one of his mood swings. She told him it was because of the parent-teacher meetings that he’d mentioned were coming up. Said that sometimes situations occurred that reminded him it was real, and it was going to hurt. It didn’t help, though- the reason was just a reason. At the end of the day, it didn’t stop him feeling like he was being crushed from the inside out. His heart felt fifty pounds heavier every time he breathed- his mind felt tired. So, so tired.

It felt endless.

 

 

“Steve,” Clint managed to finally catch him half way through the week, and Steve loved him, but not right then. Not right then. “Please, buddy, just tell us what’s wrong.

 

 _My mom’s dead,_ he wanted to scream, _my mom is dead and my dad’s dead and I have nothing and I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do with any of it and it hurts. Every breath just hurts, because she’s gone and I loved her so much and she’s g-_

 

“Nothing,” Steve shrugged him off viciously, turning away and hoisting his bag a little higher on his shoulder. “Nothing, Clint, just… just leave it, alright, I have to get to class.”

“Dude, you’ve barely spoken a word since coming in,” Clint argued, “please- I know you’re going through a tough time right now, but that’s why you need-“

“I don’t need anything,” Steve growled viciously- too vicious, he knew, Clint didn’t deserve that, but he couldn’t help it. He felt too exposed- too long with Clint staring at him like that would only end up with Steve breaking under it, and then what would he do? “I don’t need you, I don’t need Bucky- and yes, I know you fucking called him, the spam of messages makes it obvious enough- I just need to be… alone. For a bit. I’m sorry, I just… I have to.”

Steve turned away and walked off, and he knew Clint was staring at his turned back in despair, and all he could think was _me too, buddy. Me fucking too._

 

He saw Tony looking at him as he opened the door to class. Watched the way he stared unembarrassedly over his friends' shoulders from the other side of the hall. There was a second where Tony frowned and then opened his mouth, making to move- but Steve had pushed through the door and left the corridor before Tony could even take a step.  
The classroom was loud and everyone ignored him and you know what, Steve liked that just fucking fine.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

On Thursday, he visited his mom’s grave again.

 

 

It was the only thing he could think of that would possibly help. And it was ridiculous, really, to visit the place where nothing more than the shell of what had been his mom now rested in the hope finding some peace, but he wanted to try.

And he missed her.

Catching the train down to Brooklyn and then the cab up to the small secluded graveyard was easy- he’d made the journey plenty of times. It would clean him out for the rest of the week, but hey, he didn’t spend much money anyway. A lifetime of being frugal did that to a person. And really, what else had he been going to do that night anyway? Yeah, sit and stare at a wall for six hours whilst Sam knocked on the door and asked if he wanted to talk? Fun.

This was the best option.

 

 

Of course- actually standing there and looking at the words which marked out his mom’s name; looking at the place she was buried, dead and gone and _never fucking coming back_ \- he realized that maybe it hadn’t been quite as good an idea as he had previously thought.

 

 

“Why did you have to leave me?” He asked through gritted teeth, and the rain was making his hair wet; it fell into his eyes uncomfortably, but if he unclenched his hands from where they were held by his sides just then he might end up hitting something, so he just left it there. “Why did you have to go when I fucking needed you?”

There wasn’t a sound aside from the slight pit-pat of rain on concrete, and he snarled in fury just to fill the silence.

“WHY DID YOU LEAVE!” He shouted again, feet turning grass to mud as he slammed the sole of his shoe down on the earth, “WHY COULDN’T YOU JUST HAVE- could have-“

His foot stopped an inch from her plaque and hovered there uselessly for a few seconds before he dropped it gently back down a safe distance from it.

He was so tired of doing this alone. Of being alone.

He sunk to the floor right alongside her, crossing his legs neatly and quietly. If she’d have seen him just then, she would’ve killed him- _‘how disrespectful, yelling in a graveyard?’_ She’d have said _. ‘I taught you better than that, dummy.’_

He sniffed and leaned forward, carefully brushing the flecks of dirt off the stone. Pulled out the weeds that had begun sprouting around her grave. Cleaned it up, nice and neat, just the way mom liked it. Had liked it.

Whatever.

“There we go,” he whispered to no-one, to nothing, his smile tasting salty on his lips, “that’s better, ain’t it, ma?”

 

He stayed at there for a long, long time.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Steve sat down with his friends again on Friday morning, he watched them all slowly stop talking in order to stare at him in surprise.

He guessed he’d probably earned that. He’d barely spoken to them all week, after all. But hey- he was trying today, wasn’t he? That had to count for something. So maybe he did still feel like shit- but it was probably easier to feel like shit around his friends than it was to do it on his own and be subjected to his own self-destructive thoughts all day.  
Of course, that had sounded like a good idea when he’d been walking up to school this morning. Now put into practise, with three curious and worried faces staring intently at him, he was beginning to think he should have just stayed in the bathroom.

 

“Hey,” he said quietly, swallowing the stupid desire to just get up and run away, “I… uh…“

There was a sudden warmth by his shoulder and he turned with a jerk, spotting Natasha smiling next to him. “It’s okay,” she jostled his side gently, filling in for his lack of words, “we understand, you know.”

“But if you ever feel like… not being on your own,” Clint shrugged, eyes shifting to Steve’s honestly.

“-We’re all still gonna be right here, yeah?” Sam finished, smiling across at him and giving his shin a gentle kick under the table.

Steve looked around at all of his friends- at their soft faces and open smiles as they slowly continued the conversations they’d been having before Steve had joined them again- and felt something soften a little bit inside him. He smiled tiredly back at them and felt Sam’s hand pat his back, felt Natasha’s shoulder rest against his.  
It was nice. Comforting.

It wasn’t home- not quite- but it was a good place to start with, he figured.

 

“So,” Clint said, and Steve turned, looking back at his friend and then immediately becoming wary when he saw the cheeky spark in his eye, “now you’re back with us, do I get to ask what your deal is with a certain Tony Stark?”

Steve rolled his eyes- of course that was what they’d start with. Was he ever going to be able to go a day without something popping up about him? “No, you’re not allowed to ask,” he told him, “because we’re just friends-“

He heard Natasha snort to his left and turned, a betrayed look on his face. She just flipped her choppy hair out of her face and then placed a hand on her heart. “Oh, yeah, definitely ‘just friends’. He just found you in the cafeteria on Monday because he was ‘hiding’, suuure. And your little tickling match thing on the bench right next to me? Suuuure, you’re just friends.”

“It wasn’t- he doesn’t-“ Steve spluttered, but Sam jumped in this time, pulling a face as he patted Steve on the back again.

“Man, no offense, but are you blind? Did you not say the way he was looking at you when he came over with all your stuff last week? Don’t be dense, that boy would get on his knees and _beg_ for a chance to be with you.”

“Thought you didn’t even like him?” He asked Sam, his eyebrow raised. In front of him, Sam just shrugged, looking a little sheepish.

“He’s good to you,” he said, “and I think he’s good _for_ you. That’s all I need to like him, buddy.”

Steve harrumphed, fiddling with his hands against the table and trying not to blush wildly at the accusations his friends were all throwing at him. It was… Tony having a crush on him was ridiculous, really- Tony was Tony and Steve was just…

It was ridiculous! Especially when Tony could choose from anyone- he already apparently had an on-off thing with that Ty guy… Steve wasn’t…

“You really are,” Natasha told him gently, her hand finding his and squeezing under the table, “and I really think you should stop being a little pissbaby and just go tell him you want to make out with him on the principal’s desk-“

“Stop talking,” Steve shoved her away hastily whilst they all just laughed, “you are the worst people ever, oh my God, don’t put that thought in my head-“

“You know that’s probably what Tony daydreams about whenever he gets sent there, right?” Clint sing-songed with a laugh, before waggling his eyebrows over to Steve, “and I’m guessing you do too-“

“I do not think about making out with him in the… you should- I- shut up,” he snapped, folding his arms and then promptly burying his head into them whilst his friends just wolf whistled and cheered around him.

“Hey- you should invite him and Thor over to your birthday party next week,” Sam told him over a mouthful of burger, then promptly choked on it a second later. After Clint gave him a hefty whack on the back, he looked up and continued. “See if you get a _very special_ birthday present from h-“

“I’m leaving!” Steve jumped to his feet and waved his finger at them all judgingly, “I’m going to get food and I swear, if you make any more innuendos of that caliber in front of me again I will move school.”

He turned and walked away to the sound of his friends making various noises behind him and attempted not to snort in amusement. He was definitely not going to give them the satisfaction of that. Although he had to admit- it was nice to have them around, treating him like they always did, like nothing was wrong. It was probably not going to last, but… for now. It was just nice to pretend everything was okay.

He sighed, pushing back the thoughts and squeezing between the crowds. It had been a hard week. But he was glad he had his friends to fall back on- he was glad they were there. And hell- maybe Sam was thinking along the right lines, maybe he _would_ invite Tony to his birthday next week. It wasn’t exactly going to be a big thing; just gathering all his friends into one house and then watching movies, probably- but he’d like Tony to be there. Meet all his friends- properly, this time, and not whilst they watched him and Bucky snapping at one another. It would be… nice, hopefully.  
Looking behind him, he grinned fondly at the sight of Natasha and Clint bickering whilst Sam leaned back and watched with Carol at his shoulder, who’d walked up to them all just after Steve had gone. He’d got lucky with them and he knew it- he just had to remember it. Focus on it. It was easy to become lost in the tidal wave of grief, some days; but they were there for him and he had to hold that close.

With one last smile, he turned back to where he was headed- only to bump into someone as soon as he did so. They yelled in displeasure and Steve’s eyes widened, arms going out immediately. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was g-“

“Yeah, I can see that fucking much for myself, thanks,” came the sharp reply, and just like that, Steve’s guard was up. He narrowed his eyes and lifted his head, spotting Tiberius- the one who’d been talking to Tony earlier that week- sneering back down at him, holding his coffee cup between two fingers and brushing off his jacket.

When he recognized Steve, his eyebrows rose a little, and the sharpness in his eyes increased a little. “Oh, it’s you. The new one.”

Steve straightened slowly. “Yep,” he bit, “sorry about th-“

“Yeah, well, sorry isn’t going to get a fucking coffee stain out of my best jacket, is it,” Ty snapped, his lip curled in distaste.

“Oh, come on, it barely even splashed you,” Steve said incredulously, beginning to continue walking- except he found Ty blocking his path, and glared sharply, hackles rising with every second. He did not like Tony’s friend at all. “Uh, can you-“

“Why’d you move over here anyway, Rogers?” Ty asked him suddenly, cocking his head calculatingly down at Steve and taking a sip of his coffee. Steve fought the urge to just bat it right out of his hand.

“Don’t see how that’s any of your business, actually, now can you get out of my way?” Steve asked, voice hard, and he pushed forward, knocking Ty’s shoulder as he went, uncaring of whether or not he was polite any more. He wasn’t going to let some stranger push him around just because he thought he owned the fucking place, thank you very much-

“Hey, Rogers?” And the voice was nearer now, right in his ear, and Steve jumped away sharply, looking up to where Ty was leaning forward a little, speaking smugly into Steve’s ear, “a word of advice. Stay out of what doesn’t involve you, yeah?”

Steve stopped, staring unashamedly up at the bigger guy. “What’s that even supposed to m-“

“Tony,” Tiberius said, the same stupid smile sticking to his face as he shook his head down at Steve, like he was some sort of insolent child, “I’ve seen you around. With him. But believe me, that is not going to work out. Tony- he isn’t known for staying long. Picks up a new toy every few months, that’s just what he’s like. He finds someone interesting and then likes to make them feel special for a bit, make them think he cares. But he gets bored. He’ll drop you when he does.” Ty shrugged casually, patting Steve on the back, “you just stay with your little friends, and leave us. You don’t belong with someone like Tony, and he doesn’t really want someone like you. Not really. He’s not who you think he is- no matter what he’ll have you believe.”

Steve’s first instinct was, of course, to start a fight.

He decided against that, however. He was on his last warning with school at that point- the next would mean a three-day suspension, and he would really rather not have to deal with that. Plus, he didn’t actually fancy getting his ass kicked in the middle of a school cafeteria. Tiberius wasn’t worth that much to him, to be quite honest. Just some slimy asshole who seemed to think he had a say in what Steve did and didn’t do.

So instead he just laughed, and then shoved Ty’s hand off his shoulder sharply. “I think I’ll decide that for myself, thanks,” he said, making the warning evident in his voice. He glared at Tiberius without fear, and the other boy stared back, obviously a little shocked at the blunt way in which he’d just been spoken to. Maybe he wasn’t used to it.  
Well, maybe it was time he learned, then.

“Sorry about the coffee,” he parted with sweetly, before turning around without another look back, headed for the vending machines in the corner of the room. He let himself give Ty a little wave and then smiled in grim satisfaction.

So. That was one new enemy, it seemed.

He sighed in acknowledgment as he pulled out his wallet and glanced back- where Ty was now in conversation with another person (Zack? Z-something, the one who’d been bullying the Parker kid earlier, anyway), the both of them staring at him with equally dirty looks on their faces. With nothing better to do, Steve just gave them a vague salute and then turned back to the vending machine.

He got the feeling that probably wasn’t going to be the end of it.

 

With a shrug, he pulled out his snack and then began walking back over to his table.  
Eh. He’d cross that bridge when he got to it.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

****

****

****

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _I mean wht I said_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Mama woul have lovd uou_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _*Y_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _**You_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _It would have been prety ghard for her not to tho._

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Cuz youre._

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _You._

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _?? I’m sorry I’m drunk lol ignor this_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Tony? Are you okay?_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Uhhh defijne ‘okay’ lmao_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _I’m not deadf so I mean_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _You at a party?_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Nahhhhhj_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _It was boring and I was Sad so I fucked off_

****

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _So you’re home now?_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Lol fuck that._

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _I’m?? Somewhere. Idk I was gons call RThodey but then. Saw you. Got distracted whoops._

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Fuck, are you just wandering around outside?_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Where abouts are you?_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Darling if I knew Id tell u_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Its fine tho I promuse_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _I’ve done it before i just gotra find a landmark or somethign._

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Jesus Tony, turn on your location. Then tell me, alright?_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Tony?_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Yeah yeah sorry._

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _I’m disappointing when u get to know me proerly aren’t I hhaha_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _I don’t think you’re disappointing Tony_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _I’m just worried._

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _You found out where you are?_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Farborough St._

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Hey, at least Im still in Manhattan!_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _That’s only a few minutes from where I am._

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Tony, just stay there for a bit, okay? I’m coming to get you._

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _No Steve don’t you dare- Im fine. I’ll call a cab or something_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Don’t come out at this time of ngiht its nt safe_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Don’t fucking tell me to stay at home and be safe when you’re the one drunk off your ass in the streets of Manhattan at 11pm, Tony, Jesus, just stay there and let me find you._

**_Tony Stark_ ** _: Well I don’;t  fucking matter do I Steve_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _But Last time yiu went out after dark someone fuckign mugged you and I’d def rather not have to see you like that again so can you just maybe not_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _No_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Jesus Christ_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _I’ll be two minutes- just stay where you are._

 

 

 

He shut off his phone and grimaced, grabbing his coat from the side of his bed and then getting to his feet quickly. Luckily Mr and Mrs Wilson had left for date night, so the house would be empty until around 10 the next morning. Well- Sam was there, but he slept like the dead anyway, and it would take an earthquake before anything woke that guy up.

Creeping down the stairs quickly, he did up his coat and then grabbed his keys off the side before opening the door as quietly as he could. The night was pitch black but fairly warm- not too bad. At least Tony wouldn’t freeze.

 

Steve couldn’t understand why he did this.

 

Someone like Tony- someone with that much potential, with that much… inherent goodness in him- he didn’t belong in the life he’d chosen for himself. Jesus, he could have gotten into college already if he put his mind to it, Steve bet. With the ability to create robots like he had, Steve didn’t doubt it even for a moment.  
But this was where he was. Stumbling around some street he didn’t even know, drunk off his face. It just… didn’t make sense to Steve.

He wondered where it had all gone wrong.

 

Sighing, he walked a little faster down the artificially lit streets, turning the corner and then spotting Farborough Street at the bottom of the road.  
And right under the signpost, Tony was leaning casually; his collar turned up and his hands tucked away in his pockets as his foot scuffed absently along the pavement, back and forth, back and forth. He was staring at the wall, hair messed up and wild, and when he breathed out, Steve watched a plume of smoke billow from his mouth once more; the tendrils curling and wafting until disappearing into the still night. Tony’s eyes fluttered shut and he leaned his head back against the post, the picture of bliss, if only for a second before it faded back into neutrality. Steve watched him lift slender fingers up to his mouth, slot the cigarette between his lips and suck a deep breath inward, before repeating the action of before, throat exposing itself as he tipped his head back once again.

Steve wasn’t sure what it meant that he looked at that image and thought _‘angel’_ , but he guessed that the Catholic Church wouldn’t have been too pleased by it either way.

 

“Hey,” he said from across the street, swallowing the lump that had gathered in the back of his mouth, “I’m looking for Tony Stark. You seen him around anywhere?”

Tony paused, and then turned his head, a soft smile pulling at his face as he registered Steve. “Hey yourself,” he answered quietly as Steve wandered forward, “you’re rather… insufferable, you know that right?”

“And you’re rather drunk,” Steve plucked the cigarette from Tony’s mouth once he reached him, stepping on it before Tony could even complain, “you need to go home, Tony.”

The face he got in response was almost amusing. “You stepped on my cigarette.”

“I did. Now do you want me to call you a cab-“

“What did my poor cigarette ever do to you?” Tony asked him, pouting slightly as he dug his hand deeper into his pocket and then started pulling out another.

Steve just sighed. “Do you ever run out of those things?”

Tony winked, twirling it over his fingers expertly. “Addicts always have stashes, sweetie.” He chuckled lightly and then raised it to his mouth- only to be stopped by Steve’s hand, curled firmly around his wrist. He eyed it up for a second before flicking that gaze up to Steve instead.

“I don’t want you to stink of smoke, especially not if you’re coming home with me,” Steve explained, pulling Tony’s hand down and then starting to tug him forward gently.

Tony looked at him blankly for a second. “Coming…what?”

“Coming home with me, Tony,” Steve tried not to think about the other way those words could be interpreted, because otherwise he’d probably end up doing something questionable like start whining, and no one wanted that. “I’m not waiting for a cab out on some empty street. House is only two minutes away anyway- come on.”

Silently, Tony followed along as Steve led them both back down the street the way they’d come. He was surprisingly steady on his feet, which was lucky- Steve doubted whether or not he’d have been strong enough to take Tony’s weight had he fallen over.

When they got back to his door, Tony looked up apprehensively. “You sure the Wilsons are gonna be okay with me jus’ marching in an’ getting comfy in their home?”

“The Wilsons are out,” Steve told him, opening the door quickly and then pushing Tony in, “we’re all good.”

“Oh,” was all Tony said, before clicking his mouth shut and then taking a tentative step over the threshold.

The hall was still dark, so Steve had to take Tony’s hand again in order to navigate them over to the living room. Once successfully there, he gently guided Tony onto the couch, where he went with a thump.  
He never once took his eyes off Steve.

Steve caught his eye and kept it for a second, opening his mouth and trying to find the appropriate thing to say- but words failed him. Tony didn’t seem to mind though; happy to just keep looking at Steve, lips slightly parted and eyes slightly wider than normal as he tilted his chin and stared unabashedly.

Steve realized he hadn’t breathed in a while, so he took in a sharp breath and used it as an excuse to look downward. “You- uh-“ he stumbled, “you… live? Where? Where do you live- that’s the one.”

Tony didn’t say anything for a few moments, before he blinked and then snapped out of whatever trance he had been in. “Uhhhh- ‘m’not gonna go home tonight, don’t think. Rhodey’ll… yeah. I’ll text him- or Thor, his house is usually empty-“

“Tony, don’t you think you need to get back now?” Steve asked gently, cocking his head, “it’s really late, and your dad might be worried.”

Tony laughed loudly at that, and Steve frowned a little, before something clicked in his mind and he realized that there was probably a reason Tony found that so funny.  
If someone had said that to Steve about his own dad when he’d been alive, he probably would have laughed too.

“Oh,” he breathed out softly and then watched Tony’s face twist for a moment, before evening out once more as he shut his eyes and ran a hand over his face. He let off another bark of laughter- unusually loud in the quiet room- and when he opened his eyes again, he looked at Steve with moonlight bouncing off his irises.

 

“I am… such a mess,” he whispered, and Steve was hit by the sadness in his voice in the same way one would be hit by a train at full-speed. Tony was looking down, down at his shoes, and Steve watched in horror as something fell over his cheek and spilled onto the carpet- Tony was crying.

Tony was _crying._

“Hey, hey, it’s… Tony, it’s okay,” Steve said quietly, lurching forward, hands going to Tony’s shoulders and holding steady`, “you’re okay, it’s fine-“

“It’s not fucking _fine_ ,” Tony hissed, head jerking up angrily, almost nose-to-nose with Steve as he leaned in further, “it’s not fucking fine and it’s not okay, but here I fucking am anyway- not stoppin’, not… _God_ , it’s my fault- it’s my own fucking fault-“

Without thinking about it, Steve pulled him into his arms, wrapping him up in a tight hug. Tony was shaking, breath coming short and sharp, but after a second he slumped into Steve’s arms and lifted his own, curling them desperately against his waist; face buried into the crook of Steve’s neck like a frightened child. Steve just held him as best he could, feeling his heart break a little with each passing second.

“Tony,” he whispered quietly, “Tony, what happened?”

There was a long silence; Tony doing nothing but hold him tight and keep his hands curled tight around Steve’s waist- but then he laughed, leaning back a little. “Mm, gonna need more alcohol for that one, sweetheart,” he muttered, letting go of Steve in order to dig a hand into his pocket and pull out his hipflask.

For the second time that night, Steve shot out a hand and stopped him before he could lift it into his mouth. Looking at Tony seriously, he said “unless you intend to share, you’re not drinking any more right now.”

Tony stared at him blankly for a moment and then scoffed. “Like hell you’re drinking my booze,” he said with a shake of his head.

“I don’t give a fuck whose booze it is, I’ll go grab some from the liquor cabinet if I want to, but I’ve had a shitty fucking week too, you know, and if you think the answer to that is drinking, then let’s give that a try, huh?” He said, sharp and fierce, standing up with a jerk and beginning to turn away.

Tony’s hand curled sharply around his wrist, holding him in place; and when he turned back to him the boy was staring up in horror.

“No, Steve,” he said with a fast shake of his head, “no, no- Steve, don’t… s’not a… no. Don’t… that’s not how you’re s’posed to-“

“Well you do it, everyone does it- why shouldn’t I?” Steve asked, and he’d started out just trying to persuade Tony to stop drinking, but suddenly the actual idea itself didn’t seem too bad at all. A good way to just numb it all out for a second, just like everyone said it did-

“ _Steve_ ,” and Tony had stumbled to his feet now, eyes pleading as he curled his other hand around Steve’s wrist and stepped forward. He looked- he looked _stricken_. “Steve, please don’t start doing that. Don’t be like… Please. It’s not… it’s not what it’s cut out to be, I swear. Please- please don’t.”

Steve was slightly taken aback by the seriousness of Tony’s words. They were standing close to one another- again, they always ended up like this, Steve didn’t know what it was, maybe he just got pulled in by Tony’s gravity, by Tony’s own force of attraction that was so hard to ignore no matter how hard he tried- and Tony was looking at him, begging with his eyes.  
In that moment, Steve felt strangely powerful. He didn’t doubt that Tony would do anything if it meant Steve just listened to him.

 

“Fine,” he muttered, dropping his gaze, “fine, just… sit back on the couch, Tony, I’m not going anywhere.”

With a soft sigh, Tony shot him one last look before backing away until his legs hit the couch and he fell back down. His hand went back into his pocket and when it came out, it was empty.

“Now,” Steve thought about turning on the light as he passed it, but it would probably only hurt Tony’s eyes, so he left the room in darkness, “what happened tonight that upset you? Is it- is it something that needs to involve the cops or something?”

He sat down gently next to Tony and bit his lip worriedly when Tony just chuckled a little, shaking his head softly. He was staring at his hands, and it made the long strands of hair at the front of his head fall into his eyes. “Hate my friends,” was all he mumbled in the end.

Steve felt the strangely familiar sense of dislike at the mention of the people Tony hung out with. Putting a tentative hand on Tony’s arm, he watched as Tony followed the motion with his eyes. “Did they… what did they do?” He asked softly, half dreading the answer.

Tony just shrugged though- looking off to the side and then throwing up a smile when he caught Steve watching. “They made a documentary about it, you know,” he said softly.

Steve paused, trying to catch what Tony meant. When he opened his mouth, Tony finished “about my mom. About how she died,” and suddenly it all became a lot clearer.

He sat back. The grief he felt was something he had grown familiar with, by that point, but it still hurt to see it mirrored on Tony. “Oh.”

Another chuckle. “Show it every few years on some program no-one watches or cares about. They all thought it was some big corporate conspiracy, it was big news for months. I feature in the damn thing a handful of times too. Never gave an interview though.”

Tony paused. His hand went back into his pocket, and Steve got ready to stop him again, but he didn’t take it out. Just held onto it under the fabric of his jacket.

“Fucking… Zeke,” was all he said to break the silence, looking down and shaking his head. There was a bitter, bitter smile on his face. “Dear old Zeke Stane thought it would be funny to buy the fucking disk. And let me tell you, if there’s- if there’s one thing you’re not expectin’ to see whilst you’re in the middle of doing body shots, it’s a running commentary about how your own mother- how she-“

Tony broke off, and Steve sat there in stunned silence as he watched Tony sink his head into his hands and sigh deeply. “Anyway, everyone thought it was very funny. And it was! HD definition, got to see the wreckage of the godforsaken car and the footage of them rushing her into a stretcher and everything! Fun, yeah, it was- it was fun.”

Steve tried to imagine. He tried to imagine what it would be like to watch the documentary of his own mom’s gradual decline in health; watch her waste away on camera with a narrator explaining every detail, until the event of her actual death, where he’d have to watch them declare her deceased on the bed of the hospital-

His hand found Tony’s in the darkness, and he curled his fingers around Tony’s desperately. “I’m… Tony, I’m so sorry.”

In response, he got another small shrug. “Does it matter? No. It was years ago. And Zeke hates me. It’s just what we do, I guess. Everyone’ll be waitin’ to see how I retaliate.”

There was a short pause, and Steve tried to think of something to say, but was distracted when he heard the soft sound of Tony crying again. He jerked his head back down to look at him, and saw his head bowed; shoulders shaking silently as he sobbed into his own hands.  
“I fucking hate that fucking documentary,” Tony whispered hysterically, laughing through the sobs, “fucking… talked about Howard like he was some devastated wreck, like he gave half a damn. Didn’t even… never even mentioned Jarvis once, you know that? He got in that car and he died in that fucking car and no one even talks about him, ‘cause he was just some fucking… who gives a fuck about the butler, right? Who gives a fuck?”

Tony was shaking violently, and Steve, feeling like the most useless person on Earth at that moment, just made some stupid noise in the back of his throat and then pulled Tony into his arms, wrapping around the boy like he could just push all the broken pieces together if he pressed in hard enough. “Hey,” he said softly, fingers finding Tony’s hair and then beginning to curl through the soft strands gently, like his own mom had used to do to him whenever he’d cried, “hey, it’s okay. I’m here. I understand. Tell me a little bit about her, huh?” He asked gently, feeling Tony’s fingers flex against his sides, “tell me what she was like.”

Tony was silent, and Steve felt him freeze up for a second, before a tiny shift and a small smile. “She was soft,” he said, voice gentle, reverent. “She was… beautiful. Always perfect, was mom. Intelligent. She taught me Italian and sometimes we’d make traditional dishes together, and we’d speak to each other in her mother tongue. She used to tell me it was our secret language- the one Howard would never get to hear.” He choked on another wet laugh, and Tony’s hand slid up Steve’s back, gripping his shoulder instead. “I loved her a lot,” he whispered, “she wasn’t perfect, but she tried for me. She kept… she stopped my dad, kept him in check so that he wouldn’t... she loved me. She was one of the only two people who ever did.” He paused, and Steve felt the way his breath hitched; how he shook when he said “both of them died that night in that car, and that was it. I was- I was fourteen, and that was…”

Against Steve’s shoulder, he felt Tony shaking his head. Steve breathed out slowly, closing his eyes and resting his head against Tony’s gently. “What about your dad?” He asked softly, “where was he? Why wasn’t he…” _why didn’t he help,_ he wanted to ask, so very badly- where was Tony’s dad through all that? How did he end up abandoning such a brilliant boy; leaving him to destroy himself, slowly and methodically? How could anyone do that?

Tony laughed, but this one was harsh. Steve had heard it only a handful of times before. “Howard Stark doesn’t give a single shit about anyone but himself,” he spat, the slur of his words, the drunken rage only adding to his feeling, “the last half a fuck he gave died with Mom, and I was left with the weight of all his focus, all his goddamned anger- what was a fourteen-fucking-year old kid supposed to do with the weight of all that blame? ‘Cause he did- he blamed me,” Tony giggled, shaking his head and sighing like he’d heard a good joke- and Steve didn’t know why he did that, why he kept bursting out into laughter, but maybe that was just the way Tony dealt with things. Or maybe he just found a sort of morbid amusement to all of it.

“Jarvis had been driving her out to pick me up from school,” Tony continued, and Steve heard the way his voice flattened out; felt the tremble in his fingers. “They wouldn’t have… I didn’t even need to, not really- could’ve walked. Could’ve got a lift. But I- we were supposed to spend the day together and I just thought-“

“Tony,” Steve rocked him back and forth very gently, “Tony, that wasn’t your fault. Terrible things happen and they happen for reasons that we- we can’t understand, but it’s not because of us.”

Tony just shook his head again. “You don’t know,” he said softly, “you have no idea.”

At that, Steve couldn’t help but smile sadly down at Tony, who he noticed had ended up half-curled around Steve, head still down by his shoulder. “Oh, Tony- I watched my mother waste away over a 12 month period and there was not a damn thing I could do to help her. Believe me; I know a hell of a lot about all the self blame bullshit.”

Saying the words felt like chewing on ash, and he swallowed against it, trying to keep it down. Wherever he looked, though, he didn’t think he’d ever stop seeing her pale face in those last few weeks. The translucence of her skin. The greyness to her eyes. He saw it in everything he looked at- it’s why he no longer found himself able to paint like he’d used to. The colors of her death were everywhere he turned.

“I’m sorry,” and Steve blinked, realizing that it had been a while since either of them had spoken, “I’m sorry the world was so unkind to you, Steve. You… you never deserved that. Not… not you, you never…”

“Neither did you,” Steve told him, but by the way Tony’s face twisted against him, he figured that Tony didn’t quite believe that.

“The things I love don’t stay,” he murmured, voice becoming even more slurred, and Steve figured his energy must have been leaving him- spent from the emotional breakdown, “things I love jus’… get hurt. I hurt them without even… an’ mamma, an’ Jarvis an… it’ll happen, it’ll…” he stopped making sense after that- at least, to Steve he did; spiraling off into muttered Italian that Steve couldn’t understand, before groaning suddenly and pushing a hand through his hair. “God, I am way too drunk,” he said through a huff of air.

Gently, Steve let go of him; hands going firmly to Tony’s shoulders and then pushing him further down on the couch, until the back of his head hit the cushions. Their legs were still tangled together and Steve found his forearm ended up trapped behind Tony’s back, but Tony didn’t seem to find it uncomfortable. Just smiled sadly, eyes falling shut.

“You should sleep,” Steve said quietly, fingers gently sweeping Tony’s hair out of his face, “you’ve had a tough night.”

“Mm,” Tony murmured, leaning into Steve’s hold subconsciously until his head rested against the flat of his palm. He let his eyes open again; still hazy and unfocused and bloodshot, but when the moonlight hit them just right, they sang electric blue into the darkness of the room.  
“You’re…” Tony paused on the words, brow creasing a fraction as he stared up at Steve, “you’re so…”

Steve never found out what he was, however, because Tony’s eyelids fluttered closed and his head dropped against Steve’s arm, a little snore coming from his mouth as sleep finally overtook him.

Steve stared at him, realizing how small Tony looked when his personality was no longer filling up half the room. He looked so much more vulnerable sat here in front of Steve, his legs curled around Steve’s and his hands crossed over his stomach, like he was fending off attacks from something that wasn’t there. Tony was… Tony was sorta broken, if Steve was being honest. He drank too much and he had friends who weren’t really friends and a father who obviously didn’t treat him right and a mother who- who wasn’t even alive any more. Steve understood where Sam had been coming from on the first day.  
People like Steve didn’t belong mixed up in that.

Of course, that being said, there wasn’t a force on heaven or earth that would stop him now. Tony needed someone. Tony needed someone to look out for him. And Steve might be 5’4 and weigh about the size of a small puppy soaking wet, but damned if that was going to stop him stepping up to the role.

It was rather odd how fast Tony had become such a prevalent part of his life, he thought to himself as his fingers tucked a stray tuft of hair behind Tony’s ear. He knew he was playing with fire, here; it was obvious. More’s the point- he knew and he did not care. Steve was rather under the impression that perhaps Tony was worth the burns.

“Sleep well,” he murmured, slowly slipping out of Tony’s grip and untangling himself until he was stood straight once more and looking down at Tony, who had slumped into the place Steve had just been occupying. He paused for a moment and then turned away toward the shelf in the corner of the room, pulling out a slightly dusty blanket from within and then draping it carefully over Tony’s sprawled body. Once tucked in, he wandered over to the boy’s feet and began unlacing his shoes, careful not to be too jerky and end up waking him again. However, aside from a few sleepy murmurs and little twitches, Tony remained unconscious.

After the shoes had been removed and placed neatly against the couch, he spared one last longing glance over to Tony and then straightened up and checked his watch.  
11:50pm.

With a gentle sigh, he turned on his heel and made his way back upstairs, Tony snoring gently behind him.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Steve came down the next morning at 7, Tony was nowhere to be seen.

 

He spotted the blanket, folded neatly back in place on the shelf, and as he wandered over to the couch he caught sight of a small note lying in the middle of the cushions, Tony’s familiar scrawl standing out easily amongst the dull yellow.

_Thanks for picking me up and letting me crash. Sorry for… well, everything else  
Tony x_

He picked the sticky note up and held it between his fingers, eyes drawn to the stupid cross at the end of Tony’s name like it meant something. It didn’t mean anything. He knew it didn’t mean anything.

He just wished it did, that was all.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You okay man?” Sam asked over breakfast a few hours later, looking up at him in concern as he moved his cereal around the bowl and made no effort to actually put any in his mouth, “you seem kinda… spaced out.”

Steve blinked a few times, and then smiled over to Sam, pulling himself back to Earth. “Yeah,” he assured, “yeah, don’t worry. Just… thinking.”

Sam nodded, spearing another pancake and then fitting it all into his mouth at once. Steve just watched, rather fascinated. “That can’t be healthy.”

“Pr’b’y n’t,” Sam attempted to say, shrugging indifferently. When he swallowed, though, he went back to looking at Steve with slight concern. “You feel better now, though, right? I know you were having a tough week.”

Steve poked at a floating piece of cereal and let his head rest in his hand. He still didn’t really feel like talking about it. “I’m better,” he agreed in the end, leaving it at that and hoping Sam wouldn’t push.

Thankfully, Sam got the message. With a soft sigh, he bumped his shoulders against Steve’s and leaned back, the picture of nonchalance. Steve was grateful for Sam every day- for knowing him so well and being so observant. “I’m glad,” he said, before kicking Steve in the shin, “but also, whilst you were gone sulking all that time, you left me to deal with Clint and Natasha in the middle of one of their arguments. Alone. I ain’t ever gonna forgive you for that, buddy, that’s a place you should never leave a friend.”

Steve laughed, looking over at Sam as he pouted. “What was it this time? Did Clint set her house on fire?”

“No, that was last month,” Sam corrected, “I think this time it was because Nat didn’t like one of the girls Clint had met and so she… had words with her.”

“When you say words,” Steve said slowly, thinking of the way Natasha usually tended to use her ‘words’ with the people she didn’t get on with, “how violently phrased were they?”

Sam shrugged. “I zoned it out, to be honest- if there’s one thing I will never be able to do, it’s mediate an argument between those two. I’m pretty sure some threatening went on though. Possibly name-dropped her knife collection or something. Either way, Clint wasn’t happy. He lost a date.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Steve muttered, “if Natasha even smiled at me weird, I think I’d leave the country.”

They both laughed, and then turned to greet Sam’s mom as she walked through the doors, looking harried as always as she fitted on her earrings and popped a piece of toast into her mouth. Always in a rush, was Mrs Wilson. Steve couldn’t help but feel bad- he just wished he could do more to help them out. They’d done so much for him, after all, it felt like he was just sat there taking and taking and taking.

One day, he’d make enough money to be able to pay them back. He was going to make sure of it.

“Have a good day, boys,” she stopped to kiss both of them on the cheek, then wiped the lipstick mark off with a thumb and a small laugh, “stay out of trouble, eat your greens- and Sam, take out of the trash this morning, it’s your turn.”

“It’s Dad’s!”

“Dad is out working, young man, now I’m sure you can manage to make the perilous journey from here to the garbage can without complaining, yes?” She asked him, smacking him gently over the head before blowing a kiss to Steve, “you just eat your breakfast, love- I’ll be back at five.”

“Yes Mrs Wilson,” he said in amusement, side-eyeing Sam as the other boy scowled and got to his feet, “have a good day at work.”

She waved goodbye as she walked out of the house, and Steve watched her leave fondly. Mrs Wilson was the best. “Hey, Sam, don’t forget the newspapers out on the counter!”

“Fuck you, Rogers.”

Steve laughed and sipped innocently on his orange juice. It was only when Sam was passing him that he felt a hand fall on his shoulder, and he looked up curiously.

“I know I say this every time,” Sam said, his face more serious now, “but if you ever want to talk…”

“I know where to find you,” Steve finished with a small smile, nodding his head. “Yeah, I know Sam. Thank you.”

Sam looked at him, a little bit despairing, but then just nodded and gave Steve a pat on the back. “You’re on chores this evening, dick,” he called out behind him.

Steve sighed, taking another mouthful of cereal. Once Sam was out the door, his mind wandered back to where it had been in the beginning; to a tear-stained faced and a hand holding tightly to his own like it was the only thing holding him down on Earth.

He got the vague feeling that maybe, just maybe, he was in a little bit too deep.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

Late detentions were not fun.

 

Steve shut his eyes and let his head loll forward onto the desk, counting seconds in his head. To the left of him, someone was tapping incessantly, and he was about three seconds away from standing up and snapping whatever was making the noise, be it pencils or fingers.

Tony was, incidentally, sat three rows ahead of him; leaning back lazily on the chair as he twirled a pen effortlessly between agile fingers. He also hadn’t acknowledged Steve at all- same treatment that he’d been getting ever since he’d seen Tony last, crashing on his couch after the emotional breakdown.

Steve felt like all he did was go round in circles with that damn boy. Hot one minute, cold the next- it seemed whatever Steve tried, he just couldn’t get it right with him.

 

Someone walked into the hall at that moment, and Steve turned to look at them. Late to the late detention, he thought with a huff- that was pretty amusing. However, when his eyes locked on Zeke’s from across the room, he lost all sense of humor.

Oh. It was that asshole.

Zeke was looking, bored, around the room- but when he saw Steve, he stopped. Steve just glared right back, jaw clenched- it was surprising, how much he could hate a guy without even having a single conversation with them.  
Eventually, the boy’s eyes slid away, and he took a seat right at the back of the room. He didn’t look over to Steve again, and after a while Steve just shook his head and turned back around, hands clenched around the edge of the desk.

If someone had done to him what that asshole had done to Tony… Jesus, he wasn’t sure how he would have reacted. Something that would probably result in a visit to the police station, maybe.

 

He wondered what it must be like, to live your entire life under a camera. Not even the death of your mother was allowed to be private.

 

He looked at the back of Tony’s head and sighed deeply. He felt like he was always goddamn sighing, these days. Everything was just so complicated- what had happened to the days when the biggest problem Steve had had to deal with was a missing crayon or getting a scraped knee? They were the good times. He wished he was a five-year-old. Those fucks had it easy, they didn't have to worry about public image or how to make someone fall in love with you. They just ate stuff and got dirty.  
Fuck, he was bored.

 

It occurred to him whilst he glared at the back of Tony’s head that he actually had a shade of paint almost exactly the same color as Tony’s hair. Deep brown- maybe if he added in a few darker tones, some charcoal black or something, it would turn out almost exactly the same. He hadn’t drawn anyone in half a year, but he found himself… wanting, very suddenly, to put pen to paper and see if he could map out the entirety of Tony’s body, just from memory.

 Which sounded creepy But it wasn’t, he wasn’t being… Tony was just very memorable, that was all. Striking. People tended to blend into one after a while, but Tony was something else. Something different. In the way he held himself, in the lines of his body and how he dressed and the jewelry he kept on his fingers. He wasn’t like other people. He was just Tony, in his own right.  
Also, he was fucking gorgeous. Steve was man enough to admit that was a big factor, here.

 

Steve leaned forward and passed the rest of the hour deciding which colors would work for Tony’s skin, how he could style it, how he’d capture the essence just right. It was a familiar feeling- one he found he’d missed a lot more than he’d previously thought- and before he knew it, the hour had gone and the detention was finished. Of course, Tony had left before Steve could even gather his things and try going after him, and he just sighed in irritation as he watched the boy fly out of the exit without sparing a glance in Steve’s direction.  
Working through that one was no doubt going to be a challenge, Steve thought in frustration.

 

He got to his feet and left for the corridor slowly, glancing out of the window and seeing Peter and a few of his little friends chatting outside. Peter caught his eye and grinned cheekily, and Steve just rolled his eyes. No doubt the kid felt all smug after his stupid advice had ended up actually helping a little bit. He threw a hand and waved lazily, and then continued down the corridor with a shake of his head.

Of course, it was at that moment that he spotted Zeke again- getting something out of his locker and texting with his free hand. Steve felt his temper rise just looking at him; hating him for what he’d done to Tony, hating him because he was an asshole and a bully and if there was one thing Steve couldn’t stand, it was bullies.

 

Unfortunately, the combination of Steve’s confrontational personality and Zeke’s apparent tendency to make others feel like shit meant that Steve was calling out to him before he could even think about it, his face set in anger and his feet marching of their own accord.

 

At the sound of his name being called, Zeke turned; head moving to look at Steve. At once, the bored sneer moved onto his face, and it only helped to rattle Steve further. “Hello. You’re Tony’s little buddy aren’t y-“

“I don’t know why you feel the need to be a dick at any given opportunity,” Steve cut in immediately, holding tight to his bag as he stood straight in front of the taller boy, “I don’t know where you get off at from making other people feel like shit, either- but all it makes you is an asshole who no one actually likes, you know. It doesn’t make you tough shit. You’re not bigger ‘cause you pick on little fucking kids or dig in the places that you know would hurt someone, and I assure you, if I see you doing it to _anyone_ , not just Tony, I’ll do everything in my power to stop you.” He pursed his lips and stood his ground, even when Zeke laughed and stepped forward.

“I’m sorry, Rogers, but I think you’re confused,” he said softly, slamming his locker door shut, “I don’t know where you’ve come from, but here? You don’t get to tell people like me what to do.”

Steve didn’t flinch. “I’m not afraid of ‘people like you’,” he said bluntly, “I never have been.”

He saw Zeke nod slowly, shrugging. “I think you should be. You’re in too deep, man- running around with Stark, trying to pretend you’re someone. But you’re not. You’re just a nobody. You didn’t even pick the right guy to suck up to, either, instead of someone with actual status you just went to the school whore-“

He stopped talking when Steve shoved him into the lockers, which was ultimately what he had been aiming for. The look on his face, in fact, would have amused Steve at any other moment. Wide eyes, a dropped jaw- the guy looked like he’d been smacked across the face with a wet towel.

“Shut the _fuck_ up,” Steve snarled, “don’t talk about him like that, you son of a bitch. He’s worth a hundred of you.”

Zeke stepped forward again and Steve braced, absolutely fucking ready to punch the bastard’s lights out- but they both paused when someone yelled at them, and Steve let his eyes flicker to the source of the sound for a moment, and then a little more than a moment as he realised it was Tony who’d made the noise.  
Stood at the end of the corridor, he was holding two rolls of blue paper in his left hand and his bag in the other- which he let fall to the floor when his eyes fixed on Zeke. His gaze was like ice.

 

“Walk away, Stane,” he said, voice low as he wandered forward, “turn around and fuck off, right now.”

 

Steve was half inclined to disagree- to let him stay and see if he was half as big as he thought he was- but as soon as he opened his mouth Tony glared at him fiercely, and so Steve shut his mouth with a small click and a heavy breath.

“Oh look, Steve,” Zeke laughed, turning to him, “it’s your knight in shining armor, come to save your honor. Sweet. How long do you think you’re gonna last, huh, before he gets bored of you? Before he fucks you over just like he does to everyone else? He’s not really good at staying. Not really good at anything except getting on his knees for anyone who asks. Like to beg for it, don't you Tony?”

Steve felt the rage curl in his gut and he snarled in fury, stepping forward with his fist raised. Something pulled him back, though- a sharp tug at his jacket that sent him stumbling backward, straight into Tony’s arms. He pushed out angrily, wanting to just teach that piece of shit a fucking lesson, but Tony held firm, his arm not moving from around Steve’s midsection.

“He’s just doing it to get a rise out of you, Steve,” he muttered next to Steve’s ear, eyeing up Zeke with distaste while the boy just laughed at them both, “believe me, he’s not worth that. Just leave it.”

Breathing heavily, Steve eventually stopped struggling against Tony and fell back, letting Tony move him behind his body so that he stood between Zeke and Steve. His hand remained curled into the material of Steve’s shirt, over his chest.

 

Zeke eyed them both up, his gaze malicious. Steve wanted to hit him so fucking bad. “You got a thing for the new guy, Stark?” He asked softly, his voice dangerous as his gaze flickered back to Steve, just for a moment before he returned to Tony, “that’s interesting.”

 

Tony’s fingers curled just that little bit tighter against Steve’s chest. He was tense; stood to his full height as he stared off with Zeke in the hall. Steve hadn’t ever seen him like that before- not even the last time he’d been in confrontation with the other guy. In that moment, Steve could sort of understand why everyone thought Tony was trouble. His eyes were fire and his gaze hard sharp enough to cut.  
This was not a boy you wanted to get on the wrong side of.

“Word of advice, Stane,” Tony said, very, very quietly, “listen close, because I’m only gonna say this once.”

He pushed at Steve’s chest, sending him back a few paces as Tony himself stepped forward.  
“You lay a finger on him, and I will fucking kill you,” he said simply. “You have my word on that. He's _out of bounds_. Do you understand me, shitwipe, or would you like me to make it a little more obvious?”

Steve’s eyes widened in surprise at the aggressiveness of Tony’s words, and his hand reached out, tugging him back the same way that Tony had done for him a few seconds previously. Zeke was staring at him, his mouth a little agape as Tony stepped back and continued to glare unwaveringly at him.

Zeke managed to hold that gaze for about two more seconds before crumbling; looking down and coughing. With a shake of his head, Tony turned around, looking down seriously at Steve and then moving him back the way he’d come. “Okay. He gets it. Think it’s time to go, huh?”

“Your word means nothing, Stark,” Zeke called out as they both walked down the corridor; Tony’s hand curled tight around Steve’s arm, “you’ve lied too much for anyone but Rogers over there to believe you.”

“Get fucked, Zeke,” Tony waved, stooping low to collect the bag and rolls of paper he’d dropped by the corner. When he straightened his back up again, he jerked his head down the corridor before looking back at Steve. “You’re getting a lift back home with me,” he muttered.

Steve opened his mouth, but Tony just shook his head and started walking. “He has a tendency to hold grudges and he likes to hang out with his shit buddies by the bus stop you take- you are getting a lift back with me.”

Tony only dropped his arm when they were out of the building, like Steve might suddenly turn and decide to finish what he’d started. Which, to be fair, wasn’t too far off bat. Steve _was_ furious.

 

“Okay, so do you maybe wanna explain what that was?” Tony asked, spinning around and looking at Steve with folded arms as soon as he got into the open air. “Gotta admit, I wasn’t expecting to have to break up a fight whilst on my way back from picking up my stuff from Science club.”

Steve looked sullen, hitching his bag higher up onto his shoulder defensively. “He’s a fucking bastard,” he muttered, jumping down the steps two at a time.

Tony followed shortly after, pulling a face. “We all know that, buddy, what I’m asking is why you decided to nearly start a fight with him in the middle of an empty corridor. You’ve never even spoken to him!”

He spun on his heel, looking at Tony through narrowed eyes as he threw his hands in the air. “Jesus, Tony, I don’t need to have spoken to him to hate him- do you even remember what you told me on Saturday? I think that’s reason enough! And, you know, the fucking… degrading way he speaks about you doesn’t fucking help his case either, Jesus, you should have just let me fucking swing at him.”

Tony stopped in the middle of the path, looking at Steve with his eyebrows raised. Steve paused too, chin raised stubbornly. Because fuck backing down, he was right and he knew it. He was never going to just stand there and let people talk about Tony like that. Treat him like that.

“Steve…” Tony shut his eyes and put a hand up, resting his head on it. “You can’t just… it’s not your job to defend my honor-“

“Oh, but it’s your job to defend mine?” Steve asked sharply.

“Yes!”

 _“Why?_ Why are you so Goddamn intent on trying to… to keep me safe, to look out for me? Why did you decide to talk to me? Why do you _care_ so much- even when you barely knew me you were bending over backward for me, getting yourself beat to a goddamn pulp just so you could get some idiot his damn jewelry back and _I don’t understand!”_ Steve yelled, stepping forward and looking at Tony desperately.

Tony froze, looking at Steve like a rabbit caught in the headlights. His mouth fell open a little, before shutting again immediately after in order for him to swallow. He didn’t say anything.

“Is it because you felt sorry for me?” Steve asked quietly, “because you knew- you knew early on, you said it yourself. You could tell I wasn’t okay. Is that why?”

Tony sighed deeply, shutting his eyes. “Steve-“

“You’re going to lie, aren’t you?” Steve interrupted before he could bother, and he wasn’t even angry, really- just confused as hell. Tony always made him _so confused,_ everything he did was so sporadic and Steve couldn’t find a pattern, a link between any of the causes. Tony was a complete and utter enigma.

 

“My mother gave me this necklace when I was, what, seven? Yeah- seven or eight, I think,” and Steve looked up at Tony then, as he stepped forward and dug his fingers under his collar, pulling at the chain around his neck and showing Steve the same necklace he’d seen a handful of times by that point, “it was her father’s from back in Italy, and when they died, she brought it back. She had her mother’s- hers was a little star, and mine’s the moon, look-“

Tony held it between his fingers, showing Steve the beautifully designed little crescent moon, made of silver. It was shiny and in pristine quality, implying Tony cleaned it regularly.

He looked up, and Tony stared back down at him for another moment before reaching down for Steve’s hand and then pulling it up, looking at the ring sat comfortably on his finger.

“This necklace is pretty much the most important and sentimental thing she ever gave me,” Tony said quietly, “and after she died, I never fucking took it off. Never. It was all I had left of her. Dad wanted it, and I said no. He hit me again and again and _again_ and I still fucking said no, you can’t have it, this is mine- so yes, Steve, maybe I did feel sorry for you, because I fucking _understood you_. You lost that ring and I tried to imagine someone doing that to me and I couldn’t- so I helped you. It was the least I could do.”

Tony let Steve’s hand drop, and then just stood there silently. His breathing was harder now- whereas Steve felt his had stopped completely.

“Your dad hits you,” was all he said in the end, which really was terrible, because he saw Tony’s face just shut off completely, turning away from Steve and then beginning to start walking again.

“A lot of people hit me,” he said with a shrug, “I think it’s just my personalit-“

“Don’t you dare, Tony,” Steve hissed, lurching forward and curling his hand around Tony’s wrist, turning him back around, “don’t you _dare_ make this... you don’t deserve that. Ever. You could be the most terrible, annoying person in the world and you still wouldn’t deserve to be hit by him. My mom told me that herself- I’ve seen what it leaves people with. I knew what my own dad did to her when he was alive. You… Tony, you never deserve that.”

Tony looked down to where their hands were connected, before smiling a little. “Don’t you find it remarkable, just how similar our stories are?” He mumbled, mouth forming the word ‘destined’ without ever actually adding sound to it.

Steve didn’t say anything, and Tony looked up, squinting from the sunlight on his face. “I’m trying to protect you,” he said casually, fascinated by whatever cloud his eyes were latched on, “because if I don’t, then you’ll end up like me. And I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

He did actually look down then, hair blowing in the wind as he blinked back the sunlight from his eyes. “There was no one there for me. When she died, I mean- there was no one. I lost Jarvis with her too, and he’d been the only other person in my life who even remotely gave a damn, and it broke me. I never got fixed.” He shrugged, shoving his hands into the back pocket of his jeans and then pulling out a cigarette, jabbing it in Steve’s direction. “ _You_ \- you have people. You’ve got all your buddies, you’ve got the Wilsons. And you’ve got me- for when you end up in the deep end and need someone already swimming in there to help pull you out.” He shot off a grin and then pushed the cigarette in between it, before patting his jacket in search of a lighter.

 

Steve just stared.  
Tony had essentially just bared his entire soul to him, and Steve had… no idea how to react to it. Part of him wanted to shake him senseless for thinking so lowly of himself, and the other half was having to be restrained from just launching himself at that idiot boy and kiss the smoke right out of his mouth.

Fuck.

 

“I would give anything to hear my mom’s voice one more time,” Steve blurted, and Tony glanced up at him curiously as he slowly turned redder and redder. “She died after two weeks in a coma and she never got to- she didn’t even get to say goodbye properly. We hadn’t expected it. The last thing I said to her-“ he broke off, laughing a little wetly as he ran a suddenly shaking hand through his hair. “-I think I was asking her if she wanted some milk from the store? And then- God, she sent me a voicemail, you know? I deleted it- I wish I’d just kept it, just a little bit longer. That was the last time I heard her speak. I’d give anything for that stupid voicemail back.”

He tried not to let the words sink too deep under his skin, or he knew he’d drown in the weight of it. Just looked at Tony and let that anchor him instead- the sense of a shared experience, a shared weight on both of their shoulders.

“What happened to her?” Tony asked, voice gentle, and they were still standing together on the middle of the pavement, which felt weird- felt like they needed a more serious setting to have this conversation, yet here they both were.

“Life happened,” Steve laughed again before shrugging, looking off to the side. “Cancer. She worked so hard- all her life, working so hard for everyone but herself. Sometimes I think that’s what killed her- not the fucking tumor, just the weight of the world on her shoulders. She never said anything though. Never complained. She was always so… happy.”

Tony mulled over his words for a moment before he nodded. When he glanced down at Steve, there was a fond look in his eyes. "The picture I have of her in my head is very flattering," he said fingers twirling one of the rolls of paper around and around in his hand, "I bet she was great. I mean- You're her son- she must've been doing something right. I could imagine she was quite something."

"Yeah," Steve nodded quietly, the memories flashing in front of his eyes- winter days spent curled together, just him and her, or summer nights spent on the roof of their apartment building watching the sun go down as Steve drew. "Yeah, she really was."

 

They were both silent again, and Steve felt Tony’s fingers squeeze softly around his own- reminding him that he hadn’t actually let go since grabbing him a minute ago. When he looked back up, Tony was smiling at him. A sad smile, yeah- but it was better than nothing. It was more than what anyone else could have given, simply because Tony… Tony got it.

 

“Come on, Steve Rogers,” he said warmly in the end, tugging at Steve’s hand and pulling him forward, “I think, just out of principle, that we shouldn’t spend another second in school grounds. It’s a natural depressant. I think we can do that enough on our own as it is, yeah?”

Despite everything, Steve smiled a bit- following Tony’s lead as they started walking back down the path again. He was glad for the presence of Tony just then- the warmth in his hand felt good. It felt comforting.  
When they rounded his bike, he noticed in surprise that there were two bike helmets locked in place, as opposed to one. He raised an eyebrow at Tony, who just rolled his eyes and threw it his way. “Tired of you giving me dirty looks every time I rode without the helmet,” he said, dropping the cigarette in order to fit the helmet over his head.

Steve grinned smugly, pulling his own one over his head. He noted that it wasn’t quite as big as the one he’d worn before. “The best fun is had whilst wearing the appropriate safety gear, Tony, come on.”

He heard Tony’s muffled laugh and felt his heart flutter a little. The fluttering increased tenfold as his arms wrapped around Tony’s waist.

“You’re so weird,” Tony said, before kicking off the brake and revving the engine. Steve cackled, feeling the pull in his stomach as Tony drove out of the parking lot with his engine growling loudly.

He loved riding on Tony’s bike- it was a kick of adrenaline he rarely got anywhere else. Tony went a little too fast and turned a little too severely and Steve shouldn’t enjoy it, but fuck, he did. He loved it, and Tony knew damn well he did. Every time he laughed and clutched tighter to Tony’s waist, he heard the responding chuckle from Tony, felt the extra kick that he put in just to show off. It wasn’t wise, but Steve got the feeling that after that heavy conversation, it was what they both needed. Although to be fair, Steve would enjoy it just as much if they’d been talking about nothing but the weather- simply the fact he got to put his hands around Tony’s waist made it enjoyable enough.

God, Steve was smitten.

They raced down the hill, turning sharp around the corner and then slowing down, just so Tony could swerve near Zeke and stick his middle finger up as the boy waited by the bus stop at the foot of the hill. Steve looked back, watching Zeke yelling something unintelligible behind them, and laughed harder. He just wished there’d been a puddle to drive over.

 

Eventually, they ended up at the bottom of Steve’s street- Tony gradually slowing down until coming to a standstill outside Steve’s house once again. Steve couldn’t help but pout- he’d sort of wished for that to last a little longer.

“I’m getting a strange sense of Déjà vu here,” Tony said, unlatching his helmet and then turning around to raise an eyebrow, “are you going to need help getting out of your helmet again?”

“Yes,” Steve blurted before he could even stop himself, and then felt his cheeks flame in mortification. “I- I mean, uh-“

But then Tony had turned around, looking at Steve intently as his hands rose and gently framed the sides of the helmet. Softly, Steve watched him through the tinted visor as Tony lifted it off his head. He blinked from the sunlight that hit him, before focusing back in on Tony. Now holding the helmet in between two hands, he was looking a little spaced out- eyes focused somewhere near Steve’s mouth.

Steve wasn’t much better, though- Tony was very close, and Steve was only human.

 

“Do you want to come to my birthday party?” Steve asked. Well- blurted, really- it wasn’t the most graceful of propositions.

 

Tony jumped at the outburst and then blinked quickly, before swallowing and looking down at the helmet which was now in his hands. “I- uh- yeah. Sure? I mean- uhh, when… when is it? Your birthday, I mean. And- and your party, I guess-“

“September 12th,” Steve said quickly, “for both. ‘Cause it’s a Saturday. So. In five days. Are you- I mean I know you’re pretty busy a lot, and you don’t… like, you don’t have-“

“I want to,” Tony nodded vigorously, before smiling, “I’d like to. Yeah. I’m free, so…”

“Really?” Steve asked, widening his eyes a little. In all honesty, he hadn’t actually been thinking Tony would come at all, and yet-

“Really,” Tony laughed a little, nodding his head again, His ears had turned slightly pink.

“I… great!” Steve couldn’t help the tint of excitement that leaked out of his words, and he grinned, “my place, just turn up whenever. We’re not doing much- just movies and pizza and knowing Clint and Natasha, probably alcohol. There’ll be a few people there. It’ll be good. You’ll- I think you’ll like them all, they’re nice people, I swear! Bucky too, he’s sweet, I promise, you just have to warm up to him,” Steve slid off the bike, barely holding back an excited little bounce of his feet as he walked backward toward his house.

Tony winced a little at the Bucky part, and inwardly Steve made note to try and make sure Bucky was on his best behaviour when they next saw eachother. Obviously Tony hadn’t quite warmed up to him yet- and Steve didn’t blame him. Bucky _had_ been an asshole.

“I- yeah, sure Steve,” he said, nodding, “I’ll be there.”

They smiled at eachother, and Steve realised he probably had to start heading somewhere, but found himself somewhat unwilling to remove his eyes from Tony. That smile was fucking hypnotising. It was just…

God, Steve wished he was able to have that. He’d never wanted to just touch someone as much as he wanted to touch Tony. Wanted to know how every part of him felt under his hands; wanted to learn each dip and curve of muscle. He wanted to run his hands through Tony’s hair and know what he tasted like under his tongue.

 

He was selfish and foolish and he just wanted everything. But he’d settle for anything- anything at all that Tony was willing to give. That wonderful, broken boy.  
Kindred spirit, really.

 

“I have to-“ Steve jerked a thumb behind him and then laughed nervously, and Tony seemed to snap out of it at the same time as him, because he nodded a little nervously and then rammed the helmet back on his head. He didn’t quite hide the red on the back of his neck though.

“I’ll see you ‘round, Steve Rogers,” he said, revving up the engine, “please don’t get into any more fights.”

He turned out and sped off before Steve could respond, and this time Steve just chuckled. He felt…

He felt lighter.

 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t place your bets on that, Tony,” he said through a smile, watching Tony speed around the corner and into the streets of New York.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will get them together in the next chapter i promise. also, i apologize for the....messiness of this? idk i didnt really like it but... i just wanted them to bond over their shared trauma man so sue me.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS LONG AS FUCK but basically I asked around a few places to see what people were interested in, and a lot of you came back to me with like. Friendship dynamics and stuff, so I figured??? Let's give it a go? But it ended up being 20k, whoops. My bad.  
> ALSO WHOOOOOO, THIS IS OFFICIALLY MY LONGEST FIC EVER AND I'M NOT EVEN SURE IF WE ARE HALFWAY THROUGH YET! Damn. This is crazy- and I just want to say a massive, huge, warm thank you to everyone who's kudo'ed, commented or otherwise supported me throughout this! I'm overwhelmed and amazed at the response this has had, and I just want to say you're all amazing and I'm grateful for every last one of you! Thank you AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS CHAPTER!

 

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Oh and by the way_

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Thank you._

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _For… for what you said to Zeke this afternoon. I mean, obviously I could take him in a fight easy, but_

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _I’m glad I’ve got you._

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _I’m glad I’ve got you too, Steve_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Yeah man, I mean you’d be totally fucked without me obviously_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Is that sarcasm?_

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _I’m sensing sarcasm there_

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _Steve darling I was already fucked before you came along_

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _I’d say,,,,… parts of me are more salvageable when I’m with you._

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Wow I’m honored_

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _‘parts of me are more salvageable when I’m with you’_

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Oddly, I’m rather touched_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Seriously though Steve_

 **_Tony Stark_ ** _: You can’t do that every time someone says something unsavory about me_

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _You’ll get into fights twenty times a day if you do_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Then so be it_

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Tony I won’t let people talk about you like that_

****

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _It’s true tho lol_

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _I’m kind of a slut?  No big deal_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _It doesn’t matter whether you are or you aren’t, it’s about them saying it to try and purposely degrade you_

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _That’s not okay and they’ll get shoved into a locker if I hear it_

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Just gonna have to deal with it, Stark_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Huh_

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _It’s really not a big deal though Steve and it’s not worth you pissing everyone off? I’m used to it it’s just normal_

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _I know that sounds bad but like_

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _It’s just how it is and you don’t need to worry. If I don’t like it, I let them know, they stop. You don’t want the hassle of trying to fight the whole senior year._

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _And junior year_

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _Barton whispers very loudly_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Did Clint say something???_

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Oh my fucking God I’m going to fucking kill him I swear_

 **_Steve Rogers_ ** _: Oh God I’m so sorry he really is nice honestly he just has no fucking filter_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Oh dear- that one was a joke_

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _Please don’t send him any angrily worded texts he’s been wonderful he hasn’t even called me a whore once!!!_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Jesus Tony_

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _You scared the shit out of me I thought I was going to have to go fight Clint and, by extension, Natasha_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Romanov?_

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _You’d fight Natasha Romanov for me?_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Unfortunately, yes_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Oh_

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _Wow_

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _You’re really serious aren’t you._

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Tony it doesn’t matter who it is, if they try and talk about you like that then I’m calling them the fuck out_

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _This is why I have three friends_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Uh exchhuse me?_

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _*Four_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _*Four_

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _You nerd_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _DEROGATORY LANGUAGE_

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _Shortstack_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _OkaY FUCK YOU_

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _I COULD KILL YOU IF I WANTED_

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _YOU GO FOR THE KNEES ASSHOLE_

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Also are Thor/ Rhodey coming on Saturday too just to check. Also Also: Fuck you._

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Thor = yes, Rhodey = doing boring college work :(_

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _Can I just say, the fact that you go from Declaring you’d fight Romanov for me one second to telling me you’re going to take out my kneecaps the next is quite frightening and I think you should talk to someone about that_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _I have. My therapist assures me I’m not insane_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Funny. So did mine_

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _;)_

Steve grinned down at his phone and then lifted his head as he heard Mrs Wilson hailing him from downstairs, undoubtedly for dinner. He jumped up and pocketed the phone in order to go eat, bumping into Sam along the corridor as he went.

Sam took one look at his face and lifted an eyebrow. “Tony?”

Steve didn’t even blush. Just grinned, jostling their shoulders together. “Shut it, Wilson.”

“Man, believe me, I’m staying outta this one,” Sam raised his hands and followed behind him, and had the audacity to look offended when Steve just laughed at him.

Sam? Staying out of anything? Don’t be ridiculous.

“Oh,” Sam poked him in the butt with his foot as they both made their way down the stairs, “Darce is downstairs, she’s having dinner with us until her parents can pick her up.”

Steve stopped on the stairs, looking at Sam with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. “Lewis? Why the hell is she here?”

“Parents are all friends with eachother, what can I say- she’s not that bad anyway,” Sam rolled his eyes and pushed Steve in the back again, sending him plodding onto another step, “just…”

“Ceaselessly loud?” Steve said with a sigh, swinging off the banister and then waiting for Sam, pushing him forward, “whatever, you go first though- she scares me.”

Sam pulled a face, but walked ahead anyway. “She’s really not that-“

 

“SAM!” She burst into the corridor like a very small hurricane, smile splitting her face as she spotted them both, “Sam, sweetie, I’m going to need to borrow your friend for just a quick sec-“

She walked forward, and Steve’s eyes widened as he raised his hands in defense and stepped further behind Sam- but she seemed not to notice, instead just curling her hand around one of Steve’s raised hands and then pulling him back into the kitchen with excitement. Steve turned and looked a little helplessly back at Sam, but the bastard just laughed and then wandered after them, not a care for Steve’s pleading eyes.

“Uh,” he said as she pushed him into a chair and then sat next to him, an expectant smile on her face, “uh, hi- do you… what is it exactly that you-“

“Steve Rogers, new kid, Brooklyn, right?” She asked quickly, and Steve’s eyebrows rose higher.

“Uhm-“

“So, just out of curiosity, are you actually dating Tony, or is that just a rumor? ‘Cause people have been talking, and I’ve got loads of people asking me to find out, seeing as I know like, everything, but Tony refused to tell me and so obviously my next option was you,” she explained, sitting back in her chair and then fiddling with the cutlery on the table.

Steve gaped a little, looking over to Sam as he sat opposite them and grinned smugly. “Yeah, Steve, what  _is_  the deal with that?” He asked sweetly.

Steve hated him.

“I- I don’t think that’s-“

“Oh come on, Tony Stark’s business is like, everyone’s business.”

“Who’s this, Darcy?” Mrs Wilson turned around from the stove and looked at them all curiously, and Steve felt his face burn with embarrassment as he dropped his head into his arms on the table. Oh God- sometimes it felt like absolutely nothing in this household was private. Nothing in the entire  _city_ , for that fact.

“Tony- it’s the guy Steve’s been spending an awful lot of time with lately,” Darcy informed helpfully, shooting a sly smile over to Steve and nudging his elbow.

He looked up in time to spot the tail end of Mrs Wilson’s small frown, as she turned around fully and took the pot off the stove. “What, the Stark boy? Isn’t he a troublemaker?”

“Yep,” Darcy said, before Steve nudged her back, harder, and said “no” loudly.

Mrs Wilson gave them both an amused look, and Steve sighed. “He’s not… he’s not ‘ _bad_ ’ sort of bad, he’s just…”

“Misunderstood?” Sam raised a hand to his heart and fluttered his eyelashes dramatically. Steve kicked his leg under the table, and he coughed a bit, before looking over to his mom placatingly. “Don’t worry, Mom, he’s not so tough really. Or at least, he’s got a hell of a soft spot for Steve.”

“So you  _are_  dating!” Darcy shrieked excitedly, but Steve just shook his head and batted her flailing hands away in irritation.

“No, dammit, we’re not, and I don’t see why it has anything to do with you, either!” Steve said angrily, turning to her in annoyance, “so can you just let it go?”

She raised her eyebrows and then her hands followed in a show of surrender. “Alright, alright- my lips remain firmly shut.”

At that, Steve just huffed disbelievingly. “Yeah, sounds likely.”

“Okay okay, stop squabbling, all of you, it’s dinnertime,” Mrs Wilson chided, and then swooped in to put three plates of food on the table, stopping to smack Steve and Darcy lightly over the head. She paused at Steve, smiling down fondly at him as she ruffled his hair. “And you,” she began with a playful tutting in the front of her mouth, “you stay out of trouble, okay? You’re already on your last warning with school, and I’m not going to be happy if I hear you’ve started doing all those drugs you kids like so much-“

“Mom!” Sam groaned, “does Steve look like that type of guy who’s gonna start smoking in the bathrooms to you?”

“Pretty sure my lungs would just give out,” Steve admitted ruefully, “don’t worry yourself Mrs Wilson, I’ll be good as gold.”

She huffed at that, running her hand through his hair one last time before dropping it and then walking away. “You better, young man,” she said fondly, “now I’m going to go get Paul from work- Sam, wash up the dishes when you’re done- I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Oh come on, I always wash!” Sam called out to her, but to no avail, for she was already making her way back down the corridor with a smug smile on her face.

Sam pouted, spearing a fork into his pasta and then glaring daggers at Steve when he laughed. Of course, his amusement was short lived- as soon as Mrs Wilson had left the room, Darcy turned to him with a scary smile on her face, and Steve realized this dinner was going to last a very, very long time.

“He once moved an entire classroom onto the roof with a bunch of his friends, you know,” she said casually, twirling her fork through the spaghetti absently as she recalled what had happened. “It was because of his physics teacher. Everyone hated him- he was shit at his job and took it out on all of us. But yeah- I can’t remember the story very well- something about the teacher giving the whole class an hour’s detention for nothing and saying-“

“- ‘if we wanted to ever have free time to play outside after school, we’d sit in his class and not say a word for the rest of the week’,” Sam piped up, a wry smile on his face as he shot a look over to Steve, “I was in that damn class. Honestly, it was the funniest day of my life. Tony, uh- he decided to kill two birds with one stone, get everyone to come up with him to the roof and ‘get their share of fresh air before the detention started’. Everyone worked together- best show of teamwork I’ve ever seen, I swear. We moved all of it. Every last poster and table and cabinet, and just put it all up on the roof. When they finally found us, Tony was at the front of the class teaching.” Sam burst out into laughter then, shoulders shrugging as he made a vague gesture with his hands. “But hey, we were all being very quiet. Come to think of it, I think I learned more in that lesson than I did during the whole term with that teacher.”

Steve’s eyes were wide, and he couldn’t help but laugh a little incredulously. “Did he get expelled?”

“Nah,” Darcy shrugged, “that was the month after, when they found him lighting up in the principal’s office.” She raised an eyebrow to Steve, before gazing out over his shoulder a little dreamily. “Man, everyone loves a bad boy, don’t they? I would tap that  _any_   God-given day.”

Steve frowned into his food and tried to keep his mouth shut against the immediate and admittedly slightly petulant response that came easily to his mouth. Sam caught his eye and stifled a laugh, which just made Steve frown harder.

“Oh,” Darcy waved a fork in Sam’s direction and leaned forward conspiratorially, “you know Heather- she’s in one of your science classes I think- but anyway, I found out yesterday that she’s totally trying to score a date with him. All her friends have been talking about it- ‘parently he’s been staring at her during Chemistry for like, three weeks now, and she’s gonna make a move at Sunset’s birthday party this weekend-“

“Thought she was dating Justin?” Sam asked over a mouthful of pasta, whilst Steve tried to invest all his interest in a spot of peeling paint in the corner of the room and not the fact that some girl had the hots for Tony.

A lot of people had the hots for Tony. Not a big deal.

“Nah- dumped him a month back, when she started hedging her bets on a date with Tony instead,” Darcy responded, and dammit, Steve really was terrible at the whole ‘not listening’ thing.

Sam laughed. “Bet Hammer wasn’t happy being left in the dust for Tony. Again. What’s that- third time he’s stolen one of his girlfriends now?”

“Jesus,” Steve muttered, unable to stop himself, “is nothing private with you guys? With  _anyone_?”

There was short silence, before Sam pointed an accusing finger in Darcy’s direction. “She started it.”

Darcy just shrugged her admittance. “I know everything and I like to share,” she told him, nudging shoulders, “why do you care anyway Steve? You jealous? You hiding someth-

“He’s not even going to be at that party,” Steve blurted irritably, “he said he’d- he’s going to be over here at my place.”

Sam made a humming noise and looked over to Steve with a smug grin on his face that said ‘ha, you listened to my advice’. Darcy just looked a little surprised, before grinning.

“Ooooh,” she said, shoulders jumping excitedly, “now  _that’s_  interesting.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Please, could you at least keep this vaguely private? I don’t want Sam’s house getting trampled by half the school wanting to join in or something.”

He expected to have to argue or possibly bribe the insatiable girl, but instead she just nodded sagely, squeezing his arm. “My lips are sealed. I want you two to get together too bad to try and ruin anything.”

His eyebrows lifted, but she just shrugged casually. “Dude, you two are like, the cutest couple in school and you’re not even  _together_. I don’t want to mess with destiny.”

“She’s not wrong,” Sam said, looking at him fondly even when Steve just rolled his eyes at him. He tried to think of an appropriate way of responding to that, but found himself lacking.

Partly because he didn’t exactly  _want_  to deny it. Best not tempt the fates, really.

 

“Anyway,” Darcy leaned back and cocked her head over to him curiously, “what’cha doing this weekend? A date that’s not officially a date but is still totally a date?”

“Steve’s turning sixteen,” Sam wiggled his eyebrows and smiled brightly, “we’re throwing him a party!”

“It’s not going to be a party,” Steve hurried to correct, “just… a gathering of people.  _Small_  gathering,” he said pointedly when he saw the look on Darcy’s face. She pouted, but said nothing.

“Inviting Tony was my idea, thank you, I would like to take credit for that one,” Sam raised a hand and winked over to Steve, “figured that would serve as a good enough birthday present, right Steve?”

“Hey, should we invite Jane?” Steve hurried to change the subject, pulling out the first thing he could think of from the top of his head, “I mean, Thor’s coming, and according to Bruce they’ve totally been pining after one another.”

“Oh, and who’s the one gossiping now?” Darcy pointed out, taking an innocent sip of her drink as Sam laughed across from them.

“Sure, buddy,” he said, giving Steve’s leg a friendly kick, “you invite who you want. Although if you do that every time we annoy you about Tony Stark, you’re gonna have a full-fledged house party on your hands by the end of tomorrow.”

“Oh ha ha,” Steve said, feeling a buzz in his pocket that signified another message. Probably from Tony. With a quick hand, he slipped out his phone and checked- the smile on his lips coming automatically as Tony’s name read on the notifications in front of him. “Shut the fuck up, both of you,” he clicked a finger toward Sam and Darcy, stopping the inevitable teasing before it could begin, and heard the stifled sniggers in response, but chose to ignore them. Bigger person and all.

 

The rest of dinner was spent talking about other subjects- mostly all the gossip Darcy had accumulated over the week, because apparently people cared about that sort of thing and she knew literally everything. Literally. Everything.

He listened half-heartedly as she and Sam talked, but his mind was on other things. For example- the phone he was currently texting Tony on from under the table. And what he was going to do for his birthday on Saturday. And whether or not Tony would like his friends. And whether or not Tony would like the party.

Tony, basically.

He sighed to himself, running a hand over his face and then trying to zone back in on the conversation being had between his two friends. They’d moved on to discuss the current feud between Whitney and Sunset, which confused him a little because last time he’d heard they’d been happily terrorizing everyone together, best of buds. Although to be fair, he couldn’t really say he was very honed in on the drama that happened in school. Nor did he care about it, either.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Darcy turned to Steve, who jerked his head back up and tried to recall what had just been said, “someone told me that you’ve gotten on the wrong side of Tiberius Stone. What did you do, dude? That’s dangerous territory to walk over.”

Sam’s eyes sharpened a little, but Steve shook his head in placation and waved it off. “It was nothing- he got in my way, I dealt with it. If he holds a grudge, so be it. It doesn’t concern me.”

Darcy stared at him, before pulling a small and rather unimpressed face. “It should,” she muttered with a wince, “Ty’s… slippery. Be careful of him, Steve.”

He just rolled his eyes again. Ty was just like every other bully he’d met before- too big for his goddamn boots and desperate to show off how massive he thought his own dick was. “Sure thing, Darcy. Hey, Sam, pass me your plate.”

“Why?”

“So I can do the dishes?”

Sam pulled a face and clutched his plate up to his chest. “You’ve done them for the past five nights, man. Even I can admit it’s my turn, you just go back upstairs and text your boyfriend. Yes, we both know you’ve already been doing that for the past ten minutes. Normal people don’t have to stifle laughter when they look at their own crotch.” Sam winked wryly and tugged Steve’s own plat out of his hand.

Steve opened his mouth to argue, but then Darcy slid her own plate to Sam and pushed him in the back. “Go forth, Rogers. If any sexting happens, call me up.”

“ _Darcy_!” Sam scolded, whilst Steve just felt his cheeks begin to burn and his mouth go a little dryer than it had been a few moments ago.

She raised her hands in a show of peace, but shot Steve a toothy grin as he backed clumsily out of the room, face still bright red. “Okay, okay, some things stay between two phones, right? Don’t worry- secret’s safe with me,” she wiggled her eyebrows and then blew a kiss over to him as he stuck his finger back up at her and then turned on his heel, trying to retain whatever dignity he had left.

He hated Darcy. She was…. She was the worst. Putting stupid thoughts in his head.   
Goddamn it.

 

There was another buzz from his phone, but when he looked down, it was from Bucky rather than Tony. He slid open the snapchat message, grinning at the picture of Bucky and Natasha staring back up at him as they curled around eachother on the couch. He was glad Bucky had found her- Steve got the feeling that Bucky had felt kind of out on a limb after Steve had left for Queens and subsequently removed the option of having a best friend less than a minute away. Natasha was good for him.

_Thought you were coming over to join us? What has Wilson got that we don’t? :(_

He pulled a face and then took his own picture, sending it off to Bucky with the caption  _‘A Mom who makes delicious pasta for me and doesn’t kick me off the sofa to fetch the ninth pizza from the fridge?’_

The next message he got was just a close-up of Nat’s middle finger, and he rolled his eyes fondly. Hey, at least they amused themselves. He didn’t particularly fancy third wheeling on them though, thinking about it- those two were notoriously bad at reigning in their PDA.   
He was just fine staying in bed, thank you.

 

Wandering into his room, he shut the door and then flung himself onto the mattress, getting comfy amongst his pillows before turning his phone back to Tony’s messages, a soft smile on his face.

 

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _Steven where have you gone_

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _Steve_

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _STEVEN! Give me attention!_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _I return_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _How unfortunate_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _You were LITERALLY just begging for my presence like two seconds ago_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _that was two seconds ago. I changed my mind._

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Fine- I’ll just leave you to your own devices then considering I’m obviously not wanted here._

**_Tony Stark_ ** _: ._

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _Okay I take it back please don’t go anywhere._

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _ALSO do u think it would be worth moving 2 Malibu in order 2 access the hydrothermal vents for a science project or is that pushing it a bit_

 

He chuckled to himself, sending of a multitude of question marks and then grinning when Tony hurried to explain with a myriad of texts that Steve couldn’t really understand, but contributed to wherever he could. Sometimes he caught glimpses of Tony’s genius like this; pure and excited and  _real_ , and he valued it more than he probably should. Tony trusted him with it- Tony was texting him about it, and that… it meant a lot.   
To be fair, it meant a lot that Tony was talking to him at all. Steve still couldn’t really believe that had happened.

 

Sat on the bed and curled around his phone as he watched the words appear steadily on his screen in Tony’s familiar style, Steve realized that he’d really like to get used to this.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Steve walked out of the door the next morning and began his journey to the bus station two minutes down the road, the last thing he expected to see was Bucky.

 

 He paused for a moment, frowning a little and rubbing his eyes as he looked at the crappy car Bucky appeared to be sat in with his feet propped up comfortably on the dash. That didn’t make any particular amount of sense to him, considering Bucky neither lived here nor owned a car and yet… here it was.

Hm. Maybe he’d accidentally drunk decaf this morning.

 

Walking forward another step, he peered closer in at the person sitting in the car, just to check as to whether or not it was really Bucky. That, of course, alerted the boy’s attention, because suddenly he was getting a familiar shit-eating grin thrown his way and the window was being wound down, revealing a definitely-Bucky face.

“Get in, loser, we’re going shopping!” He said happily, whilst Steve just looked on warily.

“We’re… I’m going to school, actually.”

Bucky just rolled his eyes. “Mean Girls reference, you hermit. Just get in, get in!”

Steve paused for a second, debating the pros and cons of Bucky’s request. On one hand, he could possibly get charged with theft and various other crimes if he ended up in the passenger seat of a car Bucky may or may not have stolen- but on the other hand… it was Bucky.

In the end, he decided to just go with the latter. He’d done stupider things before, and it  _was_  morning. Was he expected to make coherent decisions at this time of day?

Stepping tentatively around the car as Bucky grinned through the window at him, he wrapped his hand around the handle and tugged. Then tugged harder when the metal refused to move. Finally, it let him in with a worrying groan, and he frowned deeply as he lowered himself in.

It smelt like…ass.

“Wha’ddya think?” Bucky bounced up and down on the weirdly coloured seats and turned to him expectantly, “cool, huh?”

Steve stared blankly at him. “Bucky, I’m gonna ask you one question and I want you to answer me real honest, alright? Brother to brother.”

“Go on.”

“…Did you steal this from a homeless person?”

Bucky’s smile turned instantly to a scowl, and he shoved Steve from the driver’s seat, sending him clattering into the side of the door. “Shut up, she’s not that bad!”

“Bucky, I feel like I’m going to contract something if I sit here for much longer.”

“You won’t, swear, me and Nat decontaminated it when we picked it up, you’re sitting on like, three layers worth of antibac wipes.”

Steve stared at him incredulously before it suddenly dawned on him and he gaped, sucking in a large mouthful of the ass-tasting air. “Bucky, did you  _buy_  this fucking car?”

Bucky nodded happily.

Steve spluttered for a moment, before landing with a solid “what the fuck? Uh, since when could you even drive? Since when did you even have the money for this? Since… why?”

“ _Welllllll_ ,” Bucky looked a little sheepish, making a face at Steve and shuffling around a bit, “it  _may_  have been the product of a little too much alcohol and a stunning lack of inhibitions that did it in the end. In my defense- it seemed like a great idea last night.”

Steve narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. “Bucky Barnes, you better have a license to drive this bitch-“

“Hey, don’t call her a bitch!” Bucky stroked a hand over the wheel and looked at Steve, offended as he stuck out his chin. “And I shall have you know that I do in fact have a license. Valid and everything.”

“Since when?”

“Since like, five months ago?”

“Why didn’t you  _tell me?_  “

Bucky flailed his hands around a little, cheeks going slightly pink. “I wanted it to be a surprise, asshole! I was… I mean- you were gonna be miles away, and I didn’t wanna have to rely on the shitty train times to decide when I got to see you, and I don’t know- what if there was some emergency and you needed me and… yeah,” Bucky shrugged, patting the dashboard, “so I was planning to get a car soon as I heard you were moving. Granted, I was kinda hoping to be able to save up for a slightly better model- but alcohol and Natasha both persuaded me this one was fine, so here I am. Coming to take you to school!”

Steve stared at him for a moment, and Bucky glared back- and then both of them burst into laughter at the same time. He could taste the stale air in his throat as he gasped for breath, and his hand found Bucky’s shoulder, clutching tight as they both giggled.

“You’re an idiot,” Steve shook his head and shoved Bucky’s shoulder fondly, “you… God, do you know how broke you’re gonna be to pay for this piece of crap?”

“Stop calling her a piece of crap and buckle yourself in, Rogers,” Bucky turned back to face the road, turning the keys and then wincing at the unholy noise it made in response. “This is fine, by the way. Just means it’s turning on.”

“Sure, buddy,” Steve was still laughing, but he turned to look at his best friend and felt a stupid amount of fondness for the fool.   
A Goddamn car. He’d gone and bought a goddamn car, just so he could go see Steve.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, and Bucky turned to look at him with a wry smile, but Steve just pushed on, “for always having my back. Even if it does mean you do stupid shit like this because of it, you mad mother-hen.”

Bucky shoved him again with a smile and a shake of his head. “Just strap yourself in, jerk.”

 

With one last laugh, Steve did- grimacing a little at the stiffness of the buckle. They turned out into the road, thus beginning one of the worst drives of Steve’s life. In all fairness- it was more the car’s fault than Bucky’s. He wondered if the manufacturers had heard of suspension at all or whether they’d just decided to throw some scraps together and hope for the best. Either way, it wasn’t exactly an enjoyable ride.

 

“Oh, just because you’ve been chauffeured around in Tony’s fancy Ferraris and bikes for the past month, now you’re all pissy about getting down to basics again,” Bucky scolded him, catching the look Steve made when a part of the dashboard fell off in his hand.

“I think this is just simple fear for my safety more than anything, Buck,” Steve dropped the piece of plastic and then flexed his fingers in mild disgust. He was certain things weren’t supposed to be that sticky.

“I think you should apologize to Bertha.”

“To  _whom_?”

“Bertha,” Bucky jerked his head downward, “the car.”

Steve leveled him with a truly disdainful look. “You’ve named your car… Bertha.”

“Yes, and you should apologize to her right now. You just ripped a piece of her body off!”

Steve looked at him blankly, before folding his arms. “I’m not going to apologize to the car, Bucky.”

“Apologise to the car or she’ll stop driving you to school.”

Steve spluttered, watching in irritation as Bucky gave him a warning look and hovered his fingers over the keys. “Oh dear God, alright, I’m sorry… car.”

“Bertha.”

“What?”

“Call her Bertha!”

Steve threw his hands in the air, tamping down on his despairing grin. “Oh for-  _alright_ , Bertha I’m sorry I accidentally broke a piece of your shit body off. Happy now?”

Bucky glared at him, and then pointedly stroked the wheel again. Steve just sat back, muttering “next time I want a lift I think I’ll just call Tony again. ‘Least he can drive.”

“Oh, you ungrateful sonofa-“

He just so happened to pull up into the school parking lot at that moment, and Steve took the chance God had given him to get the fuck out of there before Bucky killed him. “Oh look we’ve arrived, thanks Buck, see you later!” He laughed loudly and undid his seatbelt, opening the door just as Bucky began pulling up on the curb. He fell out of the still-moving vehicle with a slight stumble, laughing even harder as Bucky stuck his middle finger up at him through the open passenger door.

“See if I ever ride with you again, punk!” He yelled, shuffling forward and slamming the door as Steve waved him off with a grin. People had turned to face him curiously, but he didn’t really care. The last thing that mattered right then was what they thought of him.

He needed to find Natasha and yell at her. He was fast regretting the decision to introduce them to one another- God only knew what other terrible decisions they were going to make in future.

 

“Nice ride, Rogers!” Someone yelled over the parking lot, and he turned curiously, noting Ty lounging against his own expensive Audi with a group of his friends and smiling sharply over to Steve.

With a short wave that quickly turned into a middle finger, Steve just turned back around. He was in a good mood, and no slimy asshole was going to ruin that. “If only all your girlfriends told you that when you fucked, you might actually be able to hold onto them!” He called back cheerfully, bouncing up the stairs and not looking back. By the entrance he spotted Clint, Jane and Carol, and he waved at them all before nudging his way into the circle. “Hey guys.”

“Greetings, soon-to-be birthday boy,” Carol ruffled his hair amicably and then pulled a face, “Clint invited me to come to your place, but I promise Rhodey I’d study with him and I can’t back out now. Sorry to bail.”

Steve shrugged. “No worries. You can just pamper me today instead, yeah?”

She laughed, raising her fist for him to bump. “Sure thing, Rogers, where do you want me to start? Foot massage? Birthday kiss?”

“Do I hear birthday kisses are being exchanged?” And then Natasha walked in, head cocked curiously in Steve’s direction as she shot off a smile, “don’t tell Tony- he might leap right out of the principal’s office to get in on that.”

“He’s in the principal’s office again?” Steve sighed, and then remembered he was supposed to be mad at her and gave her an obligatory shove in the shoulder, “also, I do not approve of feeding my best friend copious amounts of vodka and then persuading him to buy a car. That’s what a lot of people call ‘morally wrong'.”

She shoved him back, sending him falling into Clint’s waiting arms (damned psychic twins) and then shrugged. “I think he’s just waiting outside for Thor, actually, and as for the Bucky situation- I didn’t  _persuade_ , per se… merely encouraged an idea that was already there. I think it was a worthy purchase- Bertha will do him proud.” She winked at him innocently, and he groaned in despair. Obviously that was not going to go away any time soon.

“Please don’t kill him,” was all he said, looking at her helplessly.

She offered up her pinkie in response, whilst the other hand pushed unruly curls off her face. “I won’t kill him. Whether we both die doing something legally questionable, though, is a slightly different matter.”

Steve stared at her chipped nail for a moment, before deciding that her offer was better than nothing and then extending his own. They shook solemnly before Natasha dropped it and grabbed Clint by the arm. “Come on, Barton,” she told him, “we need to go tell Miss Price why we didn’t give in our Math homework.”

“Uhh, ‘we’?” Clint sputtered as Natasha pulled him out of the circle, “I think we’ll find only one of us forgot to meet the deadline, actually-“

“Shhhh, it’s okay, we’ll go in together, it’s all fine,” she said soothingly, and then they turned a corner and disappeared from sight, the last thing they saw being Clint’s pleadingly extended arm, reaching out to them in a cry for help.

“Well, it’s his fault for befriending her,” Carol said with a shrug, before patting Steve on the shoulder, “anyway, I’m gonna get to class. I’ll see you ‘round, Rogers.”

He waved her off and then turned to Jane, the last one left. She shot him a nervous smile and he did the same- they hadn’t actually… well, they hadn’t actually spoken before this, and so neither of them really knew where to step.

“Hi,” Jane said eventually, “thanks for inviting me to your party, by the way.”

Steve shrugged, smiling a bit. “Well, Thor was coming too, so I figured I’d- uh-“

“Help me out in my useless attempts to try and get him to notice me?” Jane blushed a little, tucking a strand of her behind her ear as they wandered over to the entrance.

“Hey,” Steve shook his head and laughed, “don’t do that to yourself- he notices you alright. I’ve seen the way he stares at you when you walk by. And Tony’s always complaining about how much Thor complains about his hopeless crush on you. It’s obvious, Jane.”

She raised her eyebrows to that. “Oh, and you’re one to talk about people being pretty damned obvious with their feelings, are you?” She asked wryly. When Steve simply gave her a blank look, she just sighed. “One day you’ll take your head out of your ass, Steven. On a completely unrelated note- I’d just like to say thank you.”

“Uh-“ Steve wrinkled his brow a little bit, “what for?”

She sighed a bit, but her smile was genuine when she turned to him. “He’s better when he’s with you, you know.”

She didn’t say a name, but he got the feeling he knew what she was talking about and felt his heart jump a few paces faster automatically. “I… what do you mean?”

She pushed the door open and then slipped into school, Steve following behind and trying to avoid various kids as they made their way down the corridor. She turned to him after getting through the crowds and smiled. “You know what I mean. He’s… I- before, he was just-“ she ran a hand through her hair and then shrugged, “he was lonely.”

Steve found that a little hard to believe- but then again, how many of Tony’s friends did he actually like? Thor- and Rhodey, but he went to college, not highschool. And then…

Well. That was it, wasn’t it? Really?

“But he doesn’t look so empty when he’s with you,” Jane explained, and Steve felt his breath catching in his throat at her words, at the way she said them. So… simply. So honestly. Like it was just some every day fact. “He’s smiling more. I don’t know, you just… you fit with him. That’s all.” She smiled, tucking her hair away again before shrugging her head to the side. “Anyway- I should probably get to class. My teacher is a total dick about late marks.”

Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, he nodded mechanically and blinked. “I- yeah. You, uh, you go do that. I’ll see you round, yeah?”

Another fond little smile. “Hopefully. Catch you later, Steve.” And then she was turning away and walking down the corridor with her mousy little steps, books clutched firmly in her hands as she slipped quietly into her classroom, leaving Steve a little bit gobsmacked in his wake.

 

_He doesn’t looks empty when he’s with you_

 

Interesting- to see the same feeling reflected back in another person’s eyes. To know that…that he wasn’t alone.

It was nice. Familiar.

 

Felt a bit like coming home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

Okay, so it was stupid.

Really, it was. They were between classes, just passing by one another. Usually they’d just grin at eachother- occasionally Tony would turn around and walk with him, just to pass the time so he could show up late to his own class.

 

Really, Steve should have just kept walking.

 

Except… except he’d seen Tony, halfway down the corridor and talking with the girl Steve  _knew_  was the one Darcy had been talking about earlier that week- Heather Whateverthefuck- and suddenly he didn’t feel particularly like just walking away from that.

She was hanging off his arm, laughing at something he’d said, and he was grinning back down at her as they leaned against the windowsill and let everyone pass them by. She was close- way too close, in Steve’s opinion- and her hair kept… kept  _flicking_  everywhere as she brushed her fingers through it.

He couldn’t look away.

 

They were getting in the way of everyone walking by as they stood in the corridor. And listen- Steve didn’t  _get_  jealous. He wasn’t possessive and he didn’t care who hung out with who, as long as they treated him with respect, then it was all fine. So really, he didn’t know what this was- the weirdly hot, tight feeling in his chest as he stared at her through narrowed eyes and wished she’d just fall over or maybe get permanently expelled so she’d never be able to touch Tony again- but here he was. It was stupid and definitely unnecessary but  _God_ , the only thing he wanted to do in that moment was pull Tony away and do something stupid like write  _‘This is Steve’s’_  on his forehead whilst not breaking eye contact with the girl currently holding onto his arm as if she wasn’t even able to stand on her own.

It was wrong. He knew it was wrong. It was… also Steve’s civic duty to break that up, really. He didn’t want anyone tripping over her stupid legs or something.

 

As he walked over, the more logical part of him was telling him to just let it go, keep walking- Tony wasn’t… he wasn’t  _Steve’s_ , he could do what he wanted obviously, and they were just talking. But that was pushed aside very briefly for the rather… less sophisticated side of him. This guy was kind of an immature dick, and he didn’t share.

Tony caught his eye as he made his way calmly down the corridor, and his face lit up at the sight of him; stepping out of Heather Whateverthefuck’s way to instinctively move toward him. Steve couldn’t help but crow a little bit over that- point 1 to Steve.

“Hey Tony,” he said casually, walking over to him with a smile, “I’m actually pretty late, I can’t stay long-“ he broke off, getting a little closer than perhaps necessary as he stared up at Tony and smiled.

Tony’s eyes widened a fraction at the proximity, but he didn’t move back. “Hey yourself,” he said quietly, and Steve grinned a little harder, noting the redness just beginning at the tips of his ears.

He couldn’t help but glance to the left for a second, over to Heather as he said “you still coming to mine on Saturday, right?” softly, leaning up and curling his hand around Tony’s forearm.

Tony blinked rapidly, eyes flicking all over Steve’s face, caught between staring at his eyes and his mouth. Eventually he just spluttered a little and nodded, mouth opening and shutting uselessly as Steve leaned into him. “I- uh- I mean- I… yes. Obviously. I- yeah. Yep,” he eventually managed to get out, his voice a few octaves higher than usual.

Steve grinned, stepping back, his hand trailing down Tony’s arm as he moved out. Seemingly on autopilot, Tony made an aborted move to follow, before blinking again and just swallowing heavily, instead looking down at where Steve’s hand had just been and breathing in sharply.

 “Great! Sorry, I just wanted to check, I’ll see you later, yeah?” Steve said, before turning on his heel with another casual wave, a smug grin on his face when he turned away from them both and heard Tony’s quiet incoherent noises hit his back as he wandered off.

 

Quite possibly the most childish thing he’d ever done, yeah- but damned satisfying.

 

He spared one look behind him before turning the corner again, and noted with an (admittedly very self-satisfied) smile on his face that Tony was still stuck to the spot Steve had left him in, staring up at him with a dropped jaw as Heather Whateverthefuck attempted to pull his interest back to her.

There was a sudden burst of laughter to his left and he turned curiously, watching a girl with dark, bobbed hair lean forward against the wall and hold her head in her hands. Her shoulders were shaking with laughter, and when she finally turned her head back up again, he recognised Jan- the one who was friends with Nat- smiling back at him.

  
“ _Well_ ,” She said through her teeth as she fell into step with him, wandering down the corridor together, “that was quite possibly the most brutal and effective power move I’ve ever seen. Look at him-“ she jerked her head back to Tony, who had  _still_  not moved from the spot he’d been in thirty seconds ago, “-you just broke Tony Stark. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen his brain take that long to reboot before.”

Steve felt himself blush as the embarrassment began to mount. He wasn’t… quite sure what that had just been, now he was thinking about it. “I was just - confirming something,” he said weakly.

“What, to him or the chick?” She asked with a raised eyebrow, “either way, I’m pretty sure the -ah-  _message_ , has been put across alright.”

Steve pursed his lips, trying to tamp down the need to immediately start denying it. What was the point any more? There really wasn’t another way to have construed that- he’d just acted like a jealous asshole in front of everyone, and there was no way around it. “Well- Good,” he said shortly, before adding “not that- I mean, he can do whatever he wants. Date whoever he… I mean, obviously. I’m not… I was just-“

“Steve, I’m pretty sure there’s only one person Tony wants to date, and he’s stood to the right of me.” And Steve almost turned around in search of the mystery guy before his cheeks heated and realized, right, she was talking about him.

“What makes you think that?” He blurted suddenly, and it was weird, he barely even knew her- but she seemed friendly and she was smiling at him and he found himself just needing to know. “What is it that’s so damn obvious to everyone else but me? I had Jane tell me that earlier today too, and I want to know what the fuck you’re all seeing that I’m not.”

Jan sighed, shooting him a sideways glance that was a tad too sympathetic for his liking. “You don’t see it for the same reason he doesn’t,” she said, her shoulder bumping lightly with his, “neither of you thinks you’re good enough for the other.”

Steve frowned. He didn’t… well, maybe  _he_  wasn’t good enough for  _Tony_ , but there was no way-

“You’re doing it right now, I bet,” Jan laughed a little, patting his arm, “trying to find excuses for what I said because the idea that he might just like you is  _so very absurd_ , isn’t it?”

“I-“ Steve began, but Jan shook her head and waved him off with a flick of her hand.

“No, don’t even try and tell me otherwise, Steve Rogers, I can read you like an open book. I know you’re going to try and deny it until your dying day, but you don’t see the way he looks at you when your back’s turned.” She sighed again, hitching her bag higher onto her shoulder as she grinned over to him wryly, “and he doesn’t see you doing the same thing, either. Hopeless, both of you.”

“You don’t even know me,” Steve said with a small frown.

Jan snorted, before curving off to head up the stairs and leave Steve on the bottom floor. “I really don’t have to- you make it obvious enough.” she called after him, spinning around in her little heels and then jumping up the stairs, waving to him from behind. He watched her dumbly as she reached the top of the stairs and then slipped in with another group of people easily, her smile stretching naturally over her face before disappearing around the bend.

 As far as first conversations went, that was certainly an interesting one.

 

He huffed a little, turning his head behind him and wondering briefly if Heather was still there with Tony. Whether they were still talking together, or she’d given up and walked away. He hoped for the latter.

Sparing one last glance behind him at the quickly-emptying corridor, he pursed his lips and then hiked his bag higher onto his shoulder, making his way over to class. He made a pointed effort not to think about Tony even once, for the rest of the hour- quite possibly focused harder on his history teacher than he had in about seven months. Tony Stark most certainly did not take up a portion of his thoughts. He didn’t mean that much to Steve. Seriously. He didn’t.

Fuck, yes he did.   
God, it had been an hour and Steve was still thinking about that stupid girl for no reason. Maybe she and Tony were actually dating, for all he knew, and Tony just hadn’t told him about it. Apparently he stared at her in chemistry. Maybe they were together. Maybe maybe  _maybe maybe_ \- fucking hell, he was stuck in a loop and not getting anywhere, so much for keeping Tony out of his head for more than five fucking minutes.

Fuck, Steve wasn’t sure what he’d do if he found out Tony was in a relationship. Possibly something embarrassing, like cry. He really,  _really_  hoped that wasn’t the case.

 

 

“Steve?” And that was his teacher calling him, shit- he jerked his head back off the desk and then blinked at the empty classroom. “Did you not hear the bell?”

“Oh- sorry sir, I’m going, I’m going,” Steve mumbled in embarrassment, pulling his bag hurriedly off the bag and then shoving all his shit inside quickly- how the fuck had he not noticed the whole classroom emptying? Thoughts about Tony were dangerous things, and far too easy to get lost in.

Not looking his teacher in the eye, he hurriedly ran out of the room and made his way down the corridors to the cafeteria. He had to admit, being short had its perks- there was no one who could move through the crowds as quickly as him- and he’d found his friends on their usual table in under two minutes, which was a personal best. Usually history block to dining hall took three minutes. And yes, he counted- you had to find some sort of way to pass the time at school, didn’t you?

 

Of course, his heart promptly jumped all the way up to his throat when he saw Tony sat in his spot. It did that whenever he saw Tony anywhere, though, so he was fairly used to the feeling by that point.

 

Natasha spotted Steve first, but aside from slightly elevating a perfect eyebrow and then nodding to Tony, she didn’t say anything. Steve wandered over slowly, watching Tony’s back intently because he was a sad, sad boy with far too large of a crush to be handling on a Friday morning.

Of course, he had been hoping to just silently join the table and not make a scene. That had been the plan. But of course, where there was Tony, there was usually Thor, and Thor didn’t exactly go for subtle approaches.

“Steven!”

He was bowled over from the side as Thor barrelled into him, wrapping a huge arm around his shoulders and smiling brightly. When Steve turned to him, he noticed another victim under Thor’s other arm; curly brown hair and thick-rimmed glasses and a resigned sort of look on his face. Bruce Banner- Steve remembered him from a few times he’d sat with them all at lunch.

“Hi,” Steve said over Thor’s body, trying to keep on his feet as Thor steered them over to the table, “how did you end up in this situation, then?”

Bruce sighed. “Same as you. He set his sights on me as I passed down the corridor and then decided to take me for a ride. Which I actually don’t  _appreciate_ ,” he said the last bit louder and craned his head up to Thor, “because I should be getting back to a project, Thor-“

“Oh, Bruce, I do love you and your projects, you know that,” Thor gave his arm a squeeze and beamed, “but human interaction is good sometimes, yes?”

Bruce leveled him with a glare, before pushing his glasses a little further up his nose and rolling his eyes. “I’ll give you five minutes.”

Thor turned to Steve. “He’ll give us at  _least_  fifteen, don’t worry,” and then he pushed them both forward toward the table with a clap of his hands. “Guys, look who I found!”

Everyone turned then; Tony practically getting a face-full of Steve as he stumbled forward from Thor’s push. Tony put his hands out and caught Steve by the stomach, stopping him ending up sprawled over the table- and Steve looked down at him with a grateful smile. When he turned to scowl over at Thor, the unfazable boy just beamed. Steve wasn’t sure whether the push in Tony’s direction had been intentional or not.

“Sorry,” Steve mumbled, stepping out of Tony’s hands and then smiling, “but to be fair, you  _are_  in my spot.”

Tony just looked at him intently for a moment, before snapping out of whatever trance he was in and then blinking a few times. “I’m… oh, right, okay, yeah, shit-“ he shuffled hurriedly to the side, ignoring the protests from Clint and Sam in order to make room. His elbow caught on a drink as he moved clumsily and he swore, hands jerking out to pick it up. When Steve looked down at him curiously, the back of his neck had turned red again.

Tony was acting all… flustered?

“Hey,” Steve touched Tony’s shoulder lightly and then watched as Tony jumped a little, head spinning to look at Steve again, “you okay?”

Tony opened his mouth and then grinned. “Yep,” he said with an enthusiastic nod, “yep, I am… one hundred percent. Sorry about Thor, by the way. He likes to pick up strays. Makes him feel useful.”

“I’d like to say I am not a stray- I was coming over here anyway,” Bruce muttered, sitting down next to Sam with a huff, “and can we just put it on record that I hate Thor. I hate Tony for introducing me to Thor as well.”

Steve laughed at Tony’s offense, but watched a few slightly curious looks get exchanged around the rest of the group. “Wait, you and Tony know eachother?” Clint asked through a mouthful of crisps.

For a second, he watched Tony look a little like a rabbit caught in the headlights- and it was only because he was searching after it that he saw the short looks he and Bruce exchanged, which held an entire conversation Steve wasn’t privy to.  
Sometimes Steve forgot most people didn’t know about Tony’s genius tendencies- and that Tony didn’t want the information shared, either.

 

Eventually, Bruce just shrugged. “We used to share classes,” he said, and Tony nodded in agreement, looking down at his hands.

Steve couldn’t really say he understood it- but he bumped his knee against Tony’s and smiled in support, and then felt it grow bigger as Tony mirrored it back at him. The others began to start their own conversations, but Steve remained with his eyes on Tony; caught in their own little world as he so often found himself. It seemed as if everything else just ended up melting away whenever Tony was in a room, until all Steve could see was him.

“You hiding from someone again?” He asked after a second, but Tony just shook his head a little and leaned forward, bracing his elbows against the table as he turned and grinned at Steve.

“Nah- just wanted… a change of scene,” he said softly, before rolling his eyes and nodding over to Thor, who was happily braiding Bruce’s strands of hair. “Also, Thor’s banned from actually leaving the building at all during school hours after they caught him doing his work up a tree rather than in class, so the quad’s not an option.”

Steve snorted, making an incredulous face as he leaned over and looked at Thor from across the table. “Why the hell would he… you know what, I don’t actually think I want to know.”

“Yeah, probably for the best,” Tony smiled at him and rolled his eyes, before turning back to Steve and clicking his fingers, “oh! That reminds me- on a completely unrelated and irrelevant note, how willing would you be to part with your phone for 24 hours or so? Just out of curiosity.”

Steve paused, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. “Why would I need to part with my phone for 24 hours, Tony?”

He watched Tony flail his hands for a second, trying to find an answer to Steve’s question. “Well. See now- that would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?”

When Steve remained confusedly silent, Tony made a face and wiggled his fingers. “I just… need to do something. A  _tiny_  little thing. Like, I swear I won’t do anything untoward with it. Nothing malicious. If I do, I give you permission to hit me and tell everyone my secrets. I promise.”

Steve stared at him for a few more seconds. “What are you gonna do to my phone?”

“Please don’t make me tell you- it’s a surprise,” Tony pleaded, sticking out his bottom lip and putting his hands together in a prayer as he leaned closer to Steve. Steve just focused very hard on Tony’s nose and tried not to notice the proximity. “Pretty pretty pretty please with a cherry and sprinkles and solid gold shavings on t-“

“Oh fine, here-“ Steve rolled his eyes and shoved him playfully, pulling out his phone from his pocket and then chucking it at Tony. The boy caught it quickly and beamed, before dropping it into the inside of his jacket.

“Steven you are truly wonderful,” he declared loudly, leaning into Steve’s shoulder, “if a little too trustworthy. I feel like I would’ve needed a solid hour and copious amounts of alcohol before I’d willingly give up my phone to another soul.”

“Oh, would you like me to take it back?” Steve raised his eyebrows and looked up at Tony,  who shook his head vigorously in response. “It’s because I am in a good mood, Stark- don’t ruin this for me with your cynical ways.”

There was a glint in Tony’s eye as he leaned back and studied Steve. “Good mood, hmm? That sounds… unfamiliar. What, pray tell, caused this phenomenon?”

Steve rolled his eyes and gave Tony a gentle shove “Hey, let me have this, alright? Bucky stopped over this morning with a new car he bought so that he could drive up and see me more often. Except the car doesn’t actually work all that well. Pretty sure he and Natasha just pulled it off a scrap-heap.”

He laughed to himself, and Tony smiled back, then turned his head away slightly. “Sounds… a tad unwise,” he said evenly.

Steve grinned. “Yeah, he’s a total idiot,” he admitted with a shrug, face softening as he said, “love the bastard, though.”

Tony was silent by his side, but when Steve shot him a look he was smiling just the same as before; head cocked gently to one side whilst he watched him.

“I’m- glad you’re happy, Steve,” he said, and the way he looked at Steve in that moment sort of- sort of sent him reeling a little. There was something in his eyes that Steve couldn’t place- something strong. It was sad- but there was more to it than that. It was a softness, too.

...Reverence, maybe. Like Steve was the most important thing in the universe, at that moment.  
And hell if Steve knew what to do with that.

 

_He doesn’t look so empty when he’s with you._

 

It rang in his head like a bell as he stared and tried to make his brain start working again. Maybe it had been the joint efforts of both Jane and Jan earlier, but… he could see it. He could see the way Tony was looking at him and as much as it confused him, he knew that wasn’t how you looked at someone you were friends with. You just didn’t.

It didn’t make sense. This didn’t make any sense.

What was he trying to tell himself here? That Tony felt the same way? It was… just thinking about it was ridiculous, it didn’t even deserve to be contemplated, really. But- but he couldn’t deny what he was looking at, in that one second- it was like a moment of complete totality for Steve. It was all he could see. It was the way Steve looked at Tony, reflected back in the other boy’s eyes.

 

And just as Tony began to frown a little at Steve’s incessant staring, Thor decided that would be the appropriate moment to bodily haul Steve off his chair and then insert him on his shoulders.

Certainly a rather swift change in mood, Steve thought as he screamed. “Thor! Thor put me down right now!”

 

Thor just guffawed with laughter- and honestly, how fucking strong was the guy, to be able to just… lift him straight up onto his shoulders? If Steve wasn’t so shocked, he may have complimented Thor on his technique. As it was, he was just clutching around Thor’s head and hoping the boy didn’t decide to drop him suddenly.

The rest of the table were laughing, Tony was yelling at Thor to put Steve down, and Steve couldn’t help but giggle as Thor continued to parade him up and down the table. He could hear the dinner ladies yelling at the both of them from across the room- he was going to get into trouble for this if he didn’t get put down soon, damn him. Thor was mad as a bag of cats. God only knew how Jane was going to handle him.

“Is there a reason for this, buddy?” Steve asked into his ear, trying not to look at the three hundred faces that were currently staring in amusement at him.

“None, my friend!” Thor said, “I just got bored for a second. Dangerous thing for me to be, really. Would you like me to put you down?”

“Yes he would, Thor, for fuck’s sake, some people don’t take well to being hauled around everywhere!” Tony yelled from the floor, and Steve looked down with a cheeky grin at the flustered boy as he folded his arms and got in Thor’s face.

“I don’t really mind, Tony,” he said in wry amusement, and Thor pointed upward.

“See, he doesn’t mind, Tony!”

Tony looked up at Steve, unimpressed. “Not helping. I’m actually trying to stop him getting into _even more trouble then he’s already in_ so that he doesn’t end up being excluded again, so Thor, if you wouldn’t mind.” He gestured to Steve and then raised an eyebrow expectantly.

Thor pulled a face and looked up at Steve, who just shrugged. “Sorry, _mother_ ,” Thor muttered, before sighing and then getting down on his knees so Steve could slip off again. “Just wait until you want to do something against the rules- _I’ll_ have to keep _you_ out of trouble too, and then where will we be?”

“As if you’d ever be able to do that,” Tony laughed, patting Thor on the back, “you enjoy breaking the rules too much to try and stop me.”

 

As Steve watched him and Thor laughing together, he felt his heart twist in all different kinds of ways. The image of Tony’s face, staring at him with such… with _so much_ in there, felt like it was burned into the back of his retinas.

Goddamn Jan, opening all these doors and telling him about the way Tony looked at him. It was probably all in his damned head anyway. He shook himself, sitting back down gingerly as Thor and Tony bickered behind him. A moment passed before someone tapped his shin, and when he looked up he saw Sam raising his eyebrows over to him.

“You good?” He asked with a small frown.

 

Steve very stubbornly did not make a move to turn around. “I… yeah,” he said, shaking his head again and trying to dislodge all the fragmented thoughts running through his mind. “Yeah, I’m good.”

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

In front of him, Die Hard was playing at full volume on the TV- to the left of him, Bucky was trying to throw popcorn kernels into his mouth and being a general nuisance- and underneath him, he was using Clint’s back as a footrest. Their rather small living room was relatively packed full with people (If nine counted as a lot, that was), and they were laying amongst what would probably be best described as a dumpster at this point. The remains of shittily-wrapped paper were strewn over the floor amongst candy wrappers and humans who’d taken to use the rug instead of couches- pillows lay in heaps in different areas of the room from where Natasha and Clint had made nests, and Steve was certain he and Sam would be picking out popcorn kernels from the carpet for weeks to come.

Ah, well. At least he was having fun.

Mostly.

 

Checking the time on his watch for the thirtieth time that hour, he sighed when he saw the time in front of him. Tony was now running 48 minutes late and counting, and had yet to send any of them a message as to why.

Steve tried not to think about it. Tony had said he’d come- so Tony was going to come. He hadn’t bailed for someone else’s party. He hadn’t suddenly decided that he actually hated Steve and wanted nothing to do with him or any of his friends.

He needed to stop checking his watch every two minutes.

 

“You need’a stop checkin’ your watch every two minutes, buddy,” Bucky patted him on the arm heavily, halfway along the road to rip-roaring drunk as he sipped on one of the obnoxiously strong bottles of mead Thor had brought along and glared solemnly.

Steve, who was pretty tipsy himself, just sighed heavily. “He promised he’d come,” he said sadly, before adding “and he’s still got my’ fuckin’ phone.”

Bucky laughed, which prompted a slap from Peggy who was sat on the floor by his feet giving him a pedicure. “Don’t _move_ Barnes, what did I tell you?”

“Oops,” Bucky made a face and then turned back to Steve solemnly. “Dude, I know you’re in love with him an’ all, but if ya want I’ll still punch him for ya.”

“I don’t… I don’t want you to punch him, Bucky,” Steve said irritably, rubbing his face, “and he will come. He’s probably just busy or something.”

“Yeah, that’s what they all say,” Clint muttered mutinously under Steve’s feet, “’nd then you end up waitin’ for ‘em in the park only t’ see ‘em ten minutes later with some other guy, laughin’ away-“

“Who broke _your_ heart?” Jane asked from inside Thor’s arms. And no, if you’re wondering, that hadn’t taken long at all. He really hadn’t expected Jane to be quite so… forward. Not that it was _bad_ or anything, it was more the fact that it was- well- Jane. Can’t have called that one, if he was being honest.

“Someone who no longer attends this school, lets put it that way,” Natasha answered her, smiling sweetly and sending a small shiver running down Steve’s spine. He made a mental note to never stand Clint up on a date.

Bucky turned his head to her, before blurting “God, you’re so hot when ya do that.”

“What, make vague and intensely threatening comments?” Bruce asked him, looking at him from his blanket-fort and pulling a face.

“He’s a freak, just roll with it,” Steve informed them all with a nod of his head, “the more depraved you are as a human being, the hotter he finds it.”

Natasha beamed and stood up to undoubtedly go sit on his lap and start a(nother) unnecessary makeout session, but Steve quickly raised a hand and stood up firmly. “Na ah ah ah ah, you stay there, Romanov! If I have to see you sucking my best friend’s tongue one more time I will jump out of the window, I swear to Christ!”

She pouted, folding her arms and staring at him. “Just because you’re not getting any action doesn’t mean you have to be bitter, Rogers.”

“I think the fact that it’s my birthday means I’m allowed to tell you not to suck face on my couch,” Steve said haughtily, hands going to his hips as he glared at her, “now sit down and don’t m-“

 

Someone rang the doorbell.  
Steve immediately lost interest in the conversation, instead turning on his heel and pretty much throwing himself out the door, uncaring of his friends’ laughter.

 

Running down the corridor and coming out in the kitchen, he slowed himself down to a jog and then carefully checked his reflection on the surface of the microwave. Yeah- flushed cheeks, messy hair and a soda stain down his front. Looking good, Rogers.

With a sigh, he shook his head and continued, his hand going to the door. Taking one last short breath and steeling himself, he pulled it open.

 

“Hi,” Tony said, a little out of breath as he leaned against the frame of the door. He didn’t look too great himself, which made Steve feel a little better. There were black smudges across his white shirt, and his hair was even wilder than usual. “So, I’m gonna start with the fact that I’m really sorry.”

Unable to help himself, Steve glanced at his watch again. A tiny flicker of a smile passed over his face as an idea popped into his head, and when he looked up, he made sure to school his face into the saddest look he could manage.

“Tony, you’re four hours late,” he said quietly, “everyone’s gone home. Party’s over.”

Okay, so he did feel a _little_ bad for the look of abject horror that crossed Tony’s face as he stared at Steve. “ _What?_ No, no that can’t be… I- I swear you said 5, and it’s… Oh god, my phone’s not broken or something is it, I swear, I swear Steve I only thought 40 minutes had passed-“

Steve sniggered a little, shaking his head as he grabbed Tony’s flailing hand and pulled him inside. “I’m kidding, Tony, breathe. Sorry. You’re only like, 50 minutes late. Well, I say ‘only’-“

Tony let out an audible breath and then shoved him in annoyance, looking at Steve with a mixture of relief and irritation. “Oh my God, you bastard, I thought I’d ruined everyth-“

He cut himself off with a shake of his head, and then tried to hold back his grin when he caught Steve still stifling his own laughter behind a hand. “You’re an idiot and I hate you,” Tony told him, folding his arms.

“So are you- turning up to my house fifty minutes late looking like you got run over isn’t exactly common courtesy, you know,” Steve told him with a dry look, giving Tony the once-over and tutting.

“Hey, look, I had to do impromptu mechanics on my baby halfway back from New Jersey, I didn’t have time to come back and change into something better!” Tony defended himself, although a hand rubbed worriedly on the particularly large grease-stain running along his stomach. “Do you- I mean, I can go change if you want, I just didn’t want you to think I’d-“

“Oh God no, I’m joking Tony, it’s fine, seriously,” Steve laughed again, “you’re here now, that’s all that matters. Don’t give a shit what you look like. Did you say your bike broke down, though? Is that why you were late?”

Tony sighed and nodded with a roll of his eyes. “Of course, it had to be today. Halfway back from visiting Pep and suddenly it gives up on me in the middle of some road in the middle of nowhere. Not even a fucking phone signal either, so I couldn’t call you. I really am sorry,” Tony told him apologetically.

“So what- did you have to get it picked up or something?” Steve asked him, using the fact he was in the kitchen to stock up the supplies of popcorn and other terrible foods from the cupboards as he spoke.

Tony scoffed from behind him, and Steve turned curiously. “No. I just fixed her up, duh. Didn’t take much- I think she was just moody because I hadn’t shown her enough attention these past few weeks. She’s very temperamental,” Tony explained with a shrug- and right, yeah, that explained the grease stains and general disorderly look.

 

Steve briefly imagined what Tony would’ve looked like; sat on the side of the road, jacket off as he leaned in close to his bike and focused all that mind on the one task. He’d probably have been smoking too. Steve noticed he tended to do that when he was trying to focus.

 

God. Okay. No. Concentrate on the popcorn, Steve thought to himself hurriedly, shaking the thoughts from his mind. “Please don’t say you’ve got a name for her too. I’m not ready to deal with two of you.”

There was a short pause, and then he heard Tony ask “Barnes?”

“Mm, Barnes indeed” Steve turned back around and thrust a bowl of popcorn into Tony’s chest, “he’s calling it Bertha,” he said sadly, “and he made me apologise to it. I think I’ve been traumatised.”

Tony patted him consolingly on the arm, falling into step with him as they both made their way down the corridor. Steve felt their arms brush every time they stepped forward. “I’m so sorry. That can’t have been fun. I was wondering whose hunk of scrap metal the car outside your house was. ‘Least now I know which one to avoid on the roads.”

Steve grinned, feeling his heart thudding happily in his chest as he reached out for the door. When Tony stopped him suddenly, however, his smile turned confused. “Uh-“

“Just out of curiosity,” Tony whispered, like they could hear him from the other side of the door where Die Hard was playing at full volume and yet was still being drowned out by the sound of his friends’ voices, “do you think they- I mean, who’s in there?”

Steve frowned. “The usual crowd? Sam and Clint and Natasha, obviously. Buck and Peggy. Thor. Jane and Bruce, too, because I was feeling generous. Why do you ask?”

Tony blinked a few times, then shrugged. “Just wondering. I don’t want to- to intrude or anything, you know? And there are a lot of people who don’t exactly have… the highest opinions of me.” He shrugged again, looking down at his feet, “didn’t want to ruin your party, that’s all.”

 

Steve thought about the second time he’d met Tony, at the party downtown. When he’d cleared the room with a clap of his hands, and everyone had moved out of the way so he could get through. And here he was, in front of Steve, worried about what his friends thought of him.

“If anyone had a problem, it’d be them leaving, not you,” Steve said simply, before pushing open the door and then leading Tony in. “Hey guys- Tony’s here.”

“Shut up man, Bruce Willis is about to fall down the vents and die!” Sam threw a pillow his way, hitting Tony in the face and then turning back to the screen. Steve just rolled his eyes, taking the pillow from Tony and then hurling it back at Sam before flopping back down on his spot on the couch. When Tony looked around slightly bewilderedly, Steve just tugged on his wrist and pulled him right down next to him.

For someone supposedly as suave as Tony was, he seemed surprisingly nervous.

Their legs were touching as they both sat, and as Tony gradually became more comfortable and sunk lower into the cushions, more and more of him ended up pressed into Steve. By the end of the movie, their legs were tangled together, with Tony leaning almost subconsciously into Steve’s side; one arm propped on the back of the couch and the other twirling a breadstick between his fingers.

 

“Okay, first movie over, second round of mead begins,” Clint declared, reaching for another bottle. A unanimous round of agreement rose around the room, and various people crawled from various spots in the room to reach the bounty pile in the centre of the rrug and pull bottles from its depths. Steve grabbed one, then looked to Tony in question, but the boy shook his head.

“Driving back,” he said with a shrug, before poking Thor as he crawled past, “as are _you_ , supposedly. Your car’s parked out front, anyway.”

“Mm, change of plans,” Thor muttered, pulling Jane back into his lap, “I accidentally got drunk instead. It was a very good sacrifice to make, I think. I’ll call a cab later.”

Tony tutted smile playing on his face as he watched Steve take a sip and savour the taste it left in the back of his throat. “Pace yourself,” he warned, “that stuff’s strong as shit.”

“Since when did Tony regulate people’s alcohol intake?” Jane asked, leaning back and smiling innocently.

“Since when did Jane start sticking her tongue in the mouths of guys she doesn’t know on her first meeting with them?” Tony said smoothly, mirroring her smile before leaning over Steve to grab some popcorn. Steve made sure to stay very still, just… just in case. Of something. Steve wasn’t sure what.

 

As more alcohol was consumed, everyone gradually began getting louder, and most of them ended up on the floor watching Die Hard 2 with an intensity that only drunk people could really achieve. Tony and Steve both joined them all; Steve lying on his stomach with his elbows braced against the floor and Tony doing the same thing over to his left. Whenever Steve shot little glances over to him, Tony was smiling. It was really nice to see. Made Steve kinda want to kiss him. A lot.

But that was probably the alcohol talking. That was a bad idea. He should… not do that.

 

“I am going to get more supplies,” Steve declared suddenly, attempting to divert his own attention away from all the increasingly dirty thoughts he was having about the oblivious person lying next to him, “I will see you all in approximately thirty seconds.”

He jumped to his feet and didn’t even call Bucky out when he heard him mutter to Natasha “That gives us 25 seconds to make out for, quick, get over here,” because he was feeling in a particularly charitable mood at that moment, thanks to Thor’s wonderful Mead.

 

Of course, he only got about five seconds into the hall before he heard angry shouting start up in the room he’d just left- not even the friendly kind of angry, the _angry_ kind of angry- and his good mood sort of disappeared a little.

That was Tony’s voice.

 

The shouting was getting steadily louder as Bucky joined in, and Steve groaned in despair, turning on his heel and quickly retracing his steps. Jesus- it was gonna be real fuckin’ inconvenient if Tony and Bucky ended up hating eachother. Steve was not willing to deal with that shit, at all. He’d sit them down and force them to talk to eachother if he had to.

Slamming the door back open, he observed the room around him with sharp eyes. He spotted Tony immediately; stood facing off with Bucky for the second time whilst Thor held onto his arm and stopped him getting any further. Natasha was stood rigidly at Bucky’s side, her face blank and analytic as she undoubtedly tried to think of something to say. Around them. The rest of their friends were sat alert; some slowly getting to their feet like they were preparing for an actual damned fight to break out.

 

“-and you think you can just do that to him in his own fucking home, you sick fuck, he _loves_ you! Why the fuck would you just- why the fuck would you even throw that away for _anything_?” Steve caught the tail end of Tony yelling angrily, hand fisting at his side as he made to move forward but was stopped once more by Thor.

“What the hell is going on?” Steve said loudly, just as Bucky made a disbelieving face and stepped… back, rather than forward, which was odd- Bucky wasn’t usually one to back away from a fight.

“Tony, buddy, you’ve got the wrong end of the stick here-“

“Really? ‘Cause it certainly fucking _looked_ like you were waiting until Steve was out of the room to immediately start fucking around with Romanov, don’t fuck with me right now, Asshole-“

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?” Steve said, loud enough that the whole room turned to him that time, both Tony and Bucky jerking over to look at him.

Tony’s face paled, and he spluttered a few times before shaking his head and shutting his eyes. “Jesus Christ, I can’t- Barnes, I swear, don’t make me tell him, I don’t want to do that-“

“I’M NOT DATING STEVE, JESUS FUCKIN’ CHRIST!” Bucky cut in loudly, waving his hands through the air with finality, “Tony, I’ve never dated Steve! _Ever_! I was makin’ out with Natasha because I’m dating _her_ \- but Steve had a stupid no-kissing rule set in place, so I waited ‘til he was gone!”

Steve narrowed his eyes incredulously and tried to keep up with the half of the conversation he’d walked into. “What are you… wait- why the fuck d’you think I’m dating Bucky?”

Tony spun around to face him, brow furrowing deeply. To his left, it seemed the light was dawning on Thor too, because he slowly let his head fall into his hand. “Tony- please tell me you heard Steve explicitly state that he was in a relationship with Bucky,” he said quietly.

Tony’s mouth opened and closed a few more times, before he too, slowly lifted his hands to cover his face. “Oh no,” he said quietly, “oh… no, that’s not good, that’s very very not g-“

Bucky looked warily at Steve, who just sort of flailed his hands helplessly. “I was literally gone for a second,” he stuck up a finger, “ _one_ second, and when I come back, you’re nearly brawling in the middle of the fucking living room? What the hell even fucking happened?”

It wasn’t angry, as such- more confusion and mild annoyance, but Tony’s head sunk lower and Steve heard the cursing increase. “I should- I should go, wow, I’m so sorry Steve, I didn’t mean to, to cause a scene, I was just… oh God, I’m so fucking sorry-“

He watched in utter bewilderment as Tony moved forward suddenly, staring at the floor as he made his way over to the door Steve was currently stood at. However, he didn’t get far- Bucky reached out and tugged at his arm, holding him in place by the sleeve of his jacket.

“Nope,” Bucky said firmly, “you sit your ass back down, Stark, you can’t run off now, you should at least explain what just happened.”

“Yes, please do,” Clint called out, before Sam swatted him over the head and silenced him.

Tony looked panicked as he flicked his eyes around the room, landing on Steve just for a moment before slipping away immediately. “I- I- uh-“

“He thought you were dating Bucky, and then when you left the room and I immediately started making out with him, he was understandably angry on your behalf” Natasha explained smoothly, and when Steve turned to look at Tony in question, the boy just nodded miserably. Steve hated seeing him like that- he’d been so happy just a minute ago.

“That’s it?” Steve asked shortly, although really, what else could have fucking happened? He’d only been gone for five fucking seconds.

“Yeah,” Tony said, subdued, “yeah, that’s it. I’ll… I actually need to- there’s a thing I just remembered I have to do, and I should-“

“Hey, wait, I don’t want you to _leave_ ,” Steve blurted quickly- goddamn alcohol loosening his stupid tongue, “please don’t go, Tony.”

Thor leaned down and said something in his ear, and Tony looked up at him for a moment before nodding a little and turning back to Steve. “Are you- are you sure? I can go if you want, I’m not-“

Steve stumbled forward, and he still had to get popcorn, yes, but he felt that was not a priority at that moment as he reached for Tony’s arm. “Simple misunderstanding, Tony. It’s fine.” He looked around the room, before nodding over the TV. “Now who the fuck paused Die Hard? Turn it back on and drink your mead, guys.”

It looked as if a few of them were still curiously waiting for more to come, but Steve, along with the help of Sam, stared them all into submission- and one by one, they turned back the TV and settled down again.

 

When none of the standing parties made to move either, Steve just sighed and wound his arm around Tony’s, before sinking down to the space of floor he’d left a few minutes ago. Tony resisted for about a second before just following along, ending up sat a little rigidly on the rug, still not looking Steve in the eye.

“Hey,” Steve whispered, flicking his kneecap, “thanks.”

Tony did actually glance his way, then; brow creased. “What the hell for?”

“Hey, dude, you passed my test,” Bucky butted in with a shrug of his own, leaning over to them both, “anyone who’s as absolutely willing as you were to start fighting the moment they thought Steve’d been wronged in any way is my type’a person.”

Steve grinned lazily, waving a hand over to Bucky and then pushing him away so he could talk to Tony- well, not privately, exactly, but with less involvement from surrounding parties- “yeah. That. S’nice you’d… do that for me.”

Tony looked at him for a moment, before humming nervously and then nodding softly. “I mean- of course I would, Steve,” he said with a shrug, and it was dark, yeah, but Steve liked to think Tony was going red under his collar, “I’m just really sorry I made a scene. I didn’t mean to embarrass you, I swear-“

“To be fair,” and this time it was Thor leaning over to speak to Tony, one eyebrow raised mischievously, “I’m pretty sure you embarrassed yourself far more than you embarrassed Steve.”

At least Tony laughed at that, and although is head fell once more into his hands, his shoulders relaxed a little. Definitely a plus. “Okay, yeah, you probably have a point there, big guy. Oh, and Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

Tony shuffled a little, looking apologetic as he said “sorry for calling you… names.”

The grin on Bucky’s face was huge. “What, a worthless son of a bitch?” He asked, and Tony just sighed.

“Yeah, that. And the- uh-“

“The order to meet you out on the street right now, you piece of shit?”

Tony was definitely blushing. Steve wanted to touch it so bad. “I- yeah, yeah, and that too.”

Bucky just laughed, patting him on the back playfully. “Don’t apologise. I think I like you more than ever after hearing that.”

Tony eyed him, then looked to Steve with a huff. “Your friend is a freak,” he declared in a whisper that wasn’t really a whisper.

“Oh, we’ve been through this more than once in this evening alone,” Steve informed him, and then cackled when Bucky threw a pillow at his head.

 

With the situation diffused almost as fast as it had ignited, Steve relaxed. Tony lay down next to him a few minutes later, smiling a little nervously at him as he got comfortable on the rug. There was a childish sort of happiness in his eyes as he snuck glances over to Steve throughout the rest of the movie, and when Steve moved a little so that their shoulders were touching, he liked to imagine he could hear Tony’s breath hitch. It was certainly hard not to notice everything about Tony just then; he was so close. So… strangely real, in that moment. There was nothing Tony was hiding behind- just him, all him, lying on the rug next to Steve, surrounded by friends and with sugar grains coating his fingers from where he’d dipped them in the popcorn. His eyes were huge, reflecting the lights and explosions of the TV screen, and Steve spotted a small streak of black behind his ear from where he must have tucked his hair with dirty fingers.

 

Steve realised, with a startling sort of intensity, that he was very much in love with Tony Stark. Hopelessly so.

 

It was scary. New, and kind of… stupidly huge. Steve had never been in love before. Not in the way he loved Tony. He’d loved his mom, and he loved Bucky and Peggy- but that was softer. It was a constant undercurrent, always there, gentle and affirming. This- loving Tony, it was like his heart was on fire. Like a thousand things were exploding at once, and every single spark was sent directly to his spine. It was madness, really. He couldn’t concentrate, he couldn’t even think whenever Tony was in a room. Touching him was like being hit with a thousand volts of electricity, but in the best sort of way. Steve was addicted to the feeling. Steve just… wanted nothing more than to have him. All of him.

 

“Steve?” Tony asked softly, and Steve jumped a little, realising he’d been staring for a while. “What's up?”

“I…” _I love you, come with me, I want to kiss you within an inch of your life and draw you and put my hands on every inch of your body and let everyone know you’re mine_ \- “I’m fine. Sorry.”

He turned back to the TV and swallowed back the desire that had gathered in the centre of his chest. He didn’t know what to do with it- didn’t know where to even start. This was terrifyingly new territory.

Tony nudged his shoulder and when Steve turned, he pointed quietly to Clint, who had fallen asleep splayed out on the floor. Natasha had her feet rested on his butt, and she was leaned back against Bucky’s chest as they both kissed intently, apparently having given up on Steve’s rules half an hour ago. Thor and Jane were doing much the same in the corner of the room, and Sam appeared to have overdosed on both popcorn and mead, because he had curled himself into Bruce’s blanket fort and was currently snoring lightly against Bruce’s leg.

“I feel like not enough people are appreciating this movie,” Tony murmured with a smile, looking around the room fondly.

Steve sighed, shaking his head. “I didn’t expect them to. Die Hard 2 is nothing compared to the first, anyway. I don’t blame them for finding making out with one another more interesting.”

They both laughed; Tony rubbing at the back of his neck and then biting his lip like he was debating something. Steve watched him for a moment, before it seemed the boy finally found his tongue and said “hey, so how would you feel about me monopolizing your company for a little bit? Just- I want to show you something, and everyone seems… otherwise engaged right now, so I thought-“

“Yeah,” Steve blurted before Tony could even finish, “yeah, we can… we can go somewhere. For a bit. I’m sure the others wouldn’t mind.”

It was only Bucky who actually heard the conversation being had between them, and at that he lifted his head away from Natasha’s for a second in order to shoot him a knowing and rather smug look. Steve just glared, and Bucky knew better than to say anything at that point unless he wanted Steve to forcibly rip his head off, so instead he grinned and then made a shooing gesture with his hand.

“Really?” Tony whispered, beginning to smile at Steve’s affirmation, “I mean, we really don’t have to if you don’t want-“

“I want to,” Steve told him simply, sitting up and brushing the stray bits of popcorn from his shirt, “come on- where do you wanna go?”

Tony grinned, sitting up alongside him and getting to his feet quickly, hand going out to pull Steve up too. “That would be ruining the surprise, wouldn’t it?” He said mysteriously.

Steve rolled his eyes and hoped Tony wasn’t going to take them somewhere too foolish- anywhere past the state and he was putting his foot down- but then Tony leaned down and curled their hands together and Steve quickly decided fuck it, he’d go wherever Tony took them.

“Alright guys,” he turned around quickly, making sure not to speak too loudly and wake the ones who were sleeping, “we’ll see you in a bit.”

Tony quickly pulled them out of the room, both of them smiling like idiots as they hopped over their friends’ bodies and made their way out the door. “Use a condom!” Steve heard Bruce call quietly after them, and he almost turned around to shoot the boy a scathing look, but ended up finding himself getting tugged out the door before that could happen.

“Are we taking your bike?” Steve asked, the tinge of excitement filling his voice as they both made their way down the corridor and into the kitchen, where Tony opened the door and then stepped outside. THe look on his face told Steve he knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Yep- and don’t worry, I promise she won’t break down this time,” Tony told him as Steve shut the door behind them and then turned out into the street.

The evening was gorgeous- late summer sun just beginning to sink into the huge buildings that surrounded them, and it bathed everything in a beautifully deep orange glow. Tony suited evening light- the warmth made his skin glow. Like an angel’s.

“Come on Steve, before the sun sets completely,” Tony’s eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled and tugged Steve further out, walking backward in order to face him. Steve let himself be led, and then held out a hand for the helmet as Tony threw it his way and slipped his own on.

Sliding on the back expertly, Steve hooked his arms around Tony’s waist and held tight as Tony revved the engine and pulled out. The night was warm enough that Steve didn’t feel particularly cold, but the sensation of the wind hitting him was still just as exhilarating. He’d never get over the thrill of riding with Tony.

 

They drove through New York quickly, and soon Steve realised they were heading to the richer side of town the further they went, as the houses got bigger. They turned out from the busy main roads after ten minutes or so, and that was when Steve lost himself completely- just taking in the sights of all the huge houses lined along the roads and wondering where exactly Tony was heading.

It took an extra ten minutes until Tony began to slow down and veer over to the curb. Steve looked around him in confusion; this road was pretty much entirely empty- a couple of houses at the top, but only the one over here, right at the end of the road. It was obviously abandoned though- a _keep out_ sign stuck to the rusted iron gates, almost entirely hidden by thick ivy and wild undergrowth.

“Tony?” he asked, pulling off the helmet when they ground to a halt just outside. “Where the hell are we?”

Tony kicked out the brake and then yanked his own helmet off, turning to Steve with a wild smile on his face. “Where does it look like, Steve? We’re at an abandoned mansion.”

He jumped off the bike and then grabbed Steve’s helmet, putting them both haphazardly on the seat of his bike before running forward and gesturing for Steve to follow. “Come on!”

“I-“ Steve started, before shaking his head and laughing incredulously, following Tony’s footsteps as they trailed around the outskirts of the huge brick wall that circled the perimeter. Tony was looking at the wall, searching for something- and he ended up ducking behind a massive bush at the end of the road in order to continue his scan of the brickwork.

Steve followed; ducking under the branches and noting with surprise that the huge clump of bushes was hollowed out the middle. In front of him, it seemed Tony had found what he was searching for, because he smiled mischievously and turned back to Steve, cocking his head. “How averse are you to what may _technically_ be called trespassing?”

Steve folded his arms. “Oh, and you decided to ask me this _after_ you’ve driven me halfway across the state to undoubtedly complete the act you just asked me whether or not I was okay with?”

Tony at least had the decency to look a little sheepish. “I may have been…slightly presumptuous, yes, but in all fairness, this is barely even illegal. No one’s even been in the house for years except me.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “right, so you’re doing them a favour by putting the place to use, I suppose?”

“Exactly!” Tony clicked a finger toward him, and then stepped forward to meet Steve, taking a gentle hold of his wrist again. “Come on, Steve Rogers- live a little,” he whispered.

Steve looked up at Tony as he pouted imploringly, and then sighed. How was he ever supposed to say no to a look like that? “How do we get in?”

Tony winked, before turning back around walking over to the wall again. “The branch from the tree over the other side hangs down onto this part of the wall. You can climb up part of the way from the footholds in the wall, and then use the branch to pull yourself the rest of the way,” he explained, pointing to a particularly gnarly and old branch and then leaping high, catching hold of it without another word. He’d scrambled up and was sat on the wall faster than it would have taken Steve to say another sentence, grinning down smugly at him.

Steve looked up at him, unimpressed. “Don’t get cocky,” he muttered, sizing up the wall and then taking a running leap. He didn’t have the height Tony did, but if he got the angle right-

Bouncing off the side of the wall, he arced up and got a hand around the branch, quickly taking firm hold and then pulling himself up to join Tony. When he saw the other boy staring a little incredulously, he just laughed and looked back over to the other, more illegal side of the wall. “Shall we?” He asked.

Tony took another moment, before shaking his head fondly and then waving a hand. “After you, Rogers,” he responded lightly.

Without further ado, Steve jumped.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

“People say it’s super haunted,” Tony explained as they walked through the musty corridors; Steve looking around in a mix of awe and curiosity as he stared at the place, “it hasn’t been lived in for like, 70 years. Abandoned in the war, I think. The haunting stuff’s bull, though,” he added helpfully, “I’ve been here in the witching hour. No ghosts as far as I could tell. But if it stops people buying the place, it’s fine by me.”

“Lucky we didn’t take Sam with us, then,” Steve muttered, peering into a huge room curiously, “he, and I quote; ‘doesn’t fuck with demons or spirits of any freaky shit like that’. Apparently, he values staying alive more than going into places that are supposed to be haunted.”

“And you?” Tony asked, looking back at him as he began making his way up the huge stairs at the end of the corridor.

Steve just shrugged, following behind him. “Curious, more than scared.”

That spurred another laugh from Tony as they both ran up the stairs. “Good,” he said soundly, once he’d reached the top, “bit of adventure never hurt anyone, in my opinion.”

“Famous last words,” Steve muttered, and Tony winked at him again, careless and free as he spun into the corridor and skipped over the floorboards. He was in a remarkably good mood- had been pretty much all day, actually- it was nice. Steve loved seeing him happy. His whole demeanor changed; he seemed so much lighter.  
Steve figured he was probably the same.

 

He followed Tony down the corridor until they ended up in what looked like the master bedroom. It was huge- empty aside from a few cabinets that had been left behind, and the orange sunlight streamed in through the massive French windows on the back wall. His brow creased, wondering what Tony had actually brought him all this way for- but when he turned back to Tony, the boy had moved over to the windows- throwing them open and revealing a balcony on the other side.

He turned to Steve and flicked his head. “This way,” he said cheerfully.

Apprehensively, Steve followed along, stepping out into the balcony overlooking the massive and overgrown garden. He hadn’t realised quite how big the house actually was- from this height, he could almost see above the treeline and over to the rest of the city, to the sun that was slowly sinking further toward the ground. He turned his head to Tony, and then yelped when he noticed the boy jumping onto the railing steadily, hand gripping at the side of the wall.

“Tony, what the fuck are you doing?” Steve said loudly, jerking forward and instinctively grabbing his wrist, “Tony, fucking hell, get down, you’ll fall-“

“No, no, see, we want to get _up_!” Tony laughed, pointing up to the rafters that were jutting out a few feet above him. “Look- we’re going to the roof, see? It’s easy, don’t worry, I do this all the time.”

And without another word, Tony took hold of the rafter and hauled himself up. After that, he got a foot up to the windowsill just above that- and then he was shuffling onto the lightly slanted roof as if all he’d done was take a gentle stroll.

Steve gaped at him as he smiled back down. “You expect me to do _that_?” He gasped incredulously. “No way, Tony. You’re crazy, I’ll fall-“

“No you won’t,” Tony bent down and swung his legs back and forth against the wall, “look, I’ll help you; just get up to the rafter and I’ll pull you the rest of the way.”

“Tony, I- I can’t-“

“Do you trust me?” Tony asked him, cocking his head to the side and staring at Steve with a spark in his eyes.

Steve spluttered a bit more, flailing his hands. “I- I mean, yes, but…”

Tony just waited a few seconds until Steve was finished having his small moment of panic, and then positively beamed when Steve looked up at him the next time around. “You better fucking catch me, Stark, I swear to Christ.”

“Cross my heart,” Tony said with a laugh as Steve climbed nervously onto the railings and got his hands around the rafter above his head. “See, just hoist yourself up a _liiiitle_ bit further, then I can-“

Steve did; feet scrambling against the wall as he raised himself higher- and then there were hands at the material on his shoulders, pulling him up easily by the jacket, wow, Tony was _strong_ -

His hands found the side of the roof, and he pushed himself up next to Tony, rolling onto the tiles clumsily with a choked off little yelp. His heart was beating fast in his chest, and when he looked up, he saw Tony giggling helplessly over him, his hands still on Steve’s shoulders.

“You good?” He asked.

Steve smacked him on the chest with a scowl. “I hate you and I think you're insane,” he declared- not that Tony seemed to mind much; just lowered his hands to Steve’s elbows and then hauled him up into a sitting position.

Before Steve could even tell him he was never speaking to him again, Tony had scrambled to his feet and then pulled Steve up with him, hauling them higher up onto the roof. Steve just held tight to Tony’s hand and let him lead them up, until finally stopping on the peak of the roof, right next to the chimney. With an unceremonious thump, Tony flopped onto his butt and sat down comfortably. A second later, Steve followed.

Tony grinned at him, and try as he might, Steve couldn’t help but grin back. “Look,” the other boy said, pointing a hand out to the space in front of them, “look at our city, Steve.”

Steve turned his head away from Tony and over to the area he was pointing to, and he felt his mouth falling open at the sight he was met with.

 

He and Bucky had gone up the Empire State Building once, when they’d both been younger. Back then, Steve had been impressed- he’d felt like the tallest man in the world, looking down on the buildings and seeing the tops of them for the first time in his life.

It was nothing on the view in front of him.

 

There weren’t many skyscrapers along this skyline; the centre of Manhattan was tucked away to the corner like an unimportant detail. Instead, he was looking amongst smaller rooftops. There were trees and green things here, which he had never been able to see when he’d been up the empire state building. The sea was closer than he’d thought- a deep blue saphire spanning a thick line between horizon and land. And the _sun_ \- he could see it burning orange, slightly unnatural through the polluted smog, but beautiful all the same. It was just beginning to sink to the West, the light wrapping around buildings and casting shadows into every corner.

Steve had felt big, standing up in that skyscraper with Bucky. But he’d never felt smaller in that moment- watching the sun turn everything gold, looking at the huge concrete jungle and seeing how tiny and childlike it seemed now. This was… stunning.

 

He found himself standing again; a hand balancing on the huge chimney as Tony remained sat and pulled out a cigarette from his pocket. Steve knew he was being stared at, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the view. He’d lived in some bottom-floor flat in Brooklyn for most of his life; he’d never seen so much laid out in front of him like this before.

“Wow,” he choked in the end, feeling the breeze hit his face and blow his hair back, “this is…”

“Cool, huh?” Tony said, and Steve heard the spark of a lighter as he lit up underneath him. Steve couldn’t help but snort a little as he finally glanced back down at Tony.

“This wasn’t just some overglorified excuse for you to go out and have a smoke, was it?”

Tony side-eyed him over his cigarette, and then pointedly stubbed it out against the chimney. “Ha ha,” he said sarcastically, before pouting, “and thank you for making me waste an entire goddamn cigarette, by the way.”

“In my defence, you really didn’t need to do that.”

“Well, I was trying to prove a point, wasn’t I? You should know that about me by now.” Wordlessly, he reached into his jacket, deft fingers pulling out Steve’s phone from the inside of his pocket. “No, this is- this is why I brought you here. Figured it would be… nicer, y’know?”

Steve looked at it for a moment, before taking it from Tony’s hand curiously. He wondered what it was Tony had done to it- maybe an upgrade or something? He hoped it wasn’t too complicated for him to understand.

Turning it on slowly, he tapped in his password and then looked over to Tony. “So what did you do?” He asked suspiciously, a small smile playing on his face as he looked down.

Tony- he wasn’t smiling back, exactly, but his face was soft. “You’ve got a new voicemail,” he said quietly.

 

It took a moment for Steve to understand.

 

His hands were shaking the next time he looked back to his phone, and he felt Tony gently pull him back down into a sitting position after a second, which was probably for the best.  
“Did you…” he said quietly, looking at the homescreen blankly and then up to Tony, who just nodded. He kept his hand around Steve’s.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, “took a while to find it, considering it was- well, it was technically gone, but you know-“ he wiggled his hands a bit, “magic fingers, what can I say. You don’t have to listen to it now, I underst-“

“No,” Steve blurted loudly. He could hear his heart beating loudly in his ears. “No, I have to… now.”

Tony just nodded calmly. He didn’t say anything else, just squeezed Steve’s hand a bit and then looked back out toward the sea. Feeling like he could barely even breathe any more, Steve dialed his answering machine and then slid the phone up to his ear.

_‘Hey Stevie’_ his mum’s voice rang in his ears, calm and relaxed and casual and beautiful, and Steve felt the air leave his lungs in one brutal, fell swoop.

_‘Listen, I know you’re out with Peggy right now, but I’m gonna be working the shift until about Nine-ish? Maaaybe eight if my manager’s feeling generous, but you know what fucking Brian’s like, he’s stingy on a good day. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, yeah, right, milk! I need you to go grab some milk for me. There’s some money out on the counter I think- but I want to bake something tonight, and I need the full fat stuff. What? No, Janice, just give me a sec- sorry, darling, work’s a bit hectic right now- I’ll have the orders out by Wednesday, but that’s the best I can do! Anyway, anyway… there’s nothing else we need is there? I can barely remember what there is in the fridge these days- you kids keep stealing my food, honestly. Tell Mr Barnes I know exactly who’s pinching the pieces of fudge, by the way. Is that it? I think that’s it. I should probably get back to work; at the moment I’m just talking shit into the speaker so that I get to spend a little extra time away from the desk under the facade of talking to my son. But seriously- milk. You better get this message before I get back or I’m killing you. I’ll see you later, alright? Love you always, darling.’_

 

The voice cut off, and left deafening silence in Steve’s ear. He kept the phone pressed to his face; frozen to the spot.

 

He’d just heard his mom again for the first time in about six months. She’d asked for milk.  
_‘Love you always, darling’.  
_ She’d only started adding the ‘always’ after they’d discovered her illness was terminal. That became how she’d sign off. Love you always, Steve, have fun at school. Behave yourself at Peggy’s, you understand? Love you always.

He’d just heard her saying she loved him. He’d never even got that as she’d died, he’d never got to say goodbye, but then here she was, doing it in her in her own special way anyway, fuck, fuck, he didn’t-

 

“Hey hey hey, it’s alright, it’s okay-“ someone wrapped their hands around his clenched fists and slowly uncurled them, and when Steve looked up through blurry eyes, Tony’s face was there, staring at him in concern. “Just… just breathe, Steve, it’s alright- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… are you okay? I just thought- I mean you’d said you’d wanted it back and I thought… but I shouldn’t have assumed, I’m really sorry-“

Steve threw himself at Tony almost hard enough to send them both off balance and rolling back down the roof. As it was, Tony just about managed to keep them steady as Steve wrapped his arms impossibly tightly around Tony’s shoulders, burying his head into the juncture of his neck and clenching his eyes shut as he felt his breath hitch.

“Thank you,” he choked harshly, sobs interrupting each syllable, “thank you, I never- thank you so much, thank you-“

He broke off again when the words failed him, just shaking his head and burying it further into Tony’s shoulder as he cried. His mom’s voice was calm and visceral in his ears- she’d always sounded so goddam _happy_ , even in her worst moments she’d been happy, and fuck, he just loved her so much.

“It’s alright, Steve,” Tony said into the side of his face, and Steve realised he was being held by Tony’s arms wrapped around his waist and pulling him in tight, “it’s okay, I know it’s- it’s a lot. I know.”

“Thank you,” he murmured, sounding like a broken record, but it was all he knew, it was all he could think. Tony had found this. Steve hadn’t got the faintest idea how, but he’d got this and he’d done it all for Steve.

Tony rocked them side to side gently, letting Steve cry quietly into his jacket for another minute before they receded into smaller little hiccups, and then silence as Steve looked over Tony’s shoulder and over to the view spun out in front of him like the finest silk.

He liked to think she was out there, somewhere. Maybe not in the city- she’d never liked it, not really- but with the stars. With nature. With the sun and the threads of gold it weaved through the buildings. She’d always been a ray of sunshine to him, after all.  
Maybe she was home, finally.

 

He pushed back slowly, and Tony let him go, staring at his bloodshot eyes in concern. His jacket had little droplets on the left shoulder. “Are you okay, Steve,” he asked softly. “It wasn’t… too much, was it?”

Steve shook his head, a watery smile forming on his face as he stared at Tony. Wonderful, beautiful, genius Tony. “Not at all,” he said, voice scratchy and rasping. He figured he probably looked a sight right then; puffy red eyes, tear stained & blotchy face, hair sticking up on all ends.

When Tony smiled back at him, though, it made Steve feel nothing short of perfect. “Good,” he said, before leaning back and digging a hand back into his jacket pocket, “then I can get started on the cigarette I so woefully had to postpone earlier.”

Steve knew by that point that Tony smoked for a myriad of reasons. To focus. To forget. To calm his nerves. He figured the reason for this one was the latter; because when he took the cigarette to his lips, Steve noted the tiny stutter of his hands.

He was nervous.

Steve watched him for a moment; breathing in, out, the rhythmic motion of smoking that seemed to offer him at least some form of relief. He was staring out ahead of him- and Steve really had to wonder how he knew this place, and knew it _well_ , apparently- but that was for another time. For now, there was one thing he wanted to do and one thing only. And he wasn’t scared of it, not any more. Whether or not Tony felt the same…

Well. He was about to find out.

 

He turned to Tony slowly, and watched the other boy’s eyes fall on him in curiosity. Without a word, Steve lifted his leg and slipped it over Tony’s lap, straddling him.

Tony’s eyes went huge, and his breath stuttered to a complete halt halfway through his drag. With a focused intensity, Steve raised a hand and plucked the cigarette out of his mouth slowly, then placed his other hand against Tony’s jaw, tilting his head upward.

And then he kissed him.

 

He tasted the smoke curling into his own mouth, bitter and sharp and mixed with the taste of Tony as he pressed softly against the boy’s lips, feeling Tony’s mouth open under his own. His eyes fluttered shut; the fireworks bursting behind his eyelids and sending his heart racing manically- and Steve felt Tony’s hands wrap delicately around Steve’s waist, pull him closer until they were chest to chest, Tony leaning up trying to catch as much of his mouth as he could manage.

Steve broke away for a second, watching in hypnotised fascination as Tony did his level best to catch up with him. They stared at eachother for a moment, before Steve turned his head to the side and blew out the smoke that had ended up in his mouth.

Below him, he felt Tony shiver. “Oh my fucking god,” he blurted quietly, “Jesus fucking Christ that was hot. _You’re_ hot. Oh my- God,” he choked hoarsely.

Steve raised his eyebrows before leaning in again, his smile pushing into Tony’s mouth. Tony surged up to meet him enthusiastically, and Steve felt… he felt fucking high off it. Tony was _here_ , kissing him, his hands around Steve’s waist, every movement of his fingers being like something burning hot touching his skin, and he’d just given Steve the best birthday present he could possibly have thought of because he was _Tony_ , of course he would, and-

 

Tony put his tongue in Steve’s mouth and everything sort of short-circuited for a moment, leaving his brain blissfully empty of all thought aside from _‘holy shit, so this is what Bucky was never able to shut up about’_.

 

He wanted to put his hand in Tony’s hair, so he quickly leaned forward a little in order to stub out the second cigarette against the brick and then did exactly that; feeling the softness under his fingers and barely resisting the urge to just laugh with happiness. He couldn’t believe it was actually happening- couldn’t believe he was actually getting this. “Sorry for wasting another cigarette,” he murmured, framing Tony’s face between his hands.

He leaned back a little, noses brushing against one another as he looked down at Tony and giggled slightly deliriously. Tony didn’t open his eyes for another second, but then seemingly pulled them open with intense effort. “Hmm?” He asked- and he hadn’t been drinking, but he sounded drunk anyway.

“Your cigarette,” Steve leaned and kissed him lightly again, because he just couldn’t help himself, “sorry, I put it out again.”

“Was I smoking?” Tony murmured, hands grabbing Steve’s collar and pulling him down again, “I don’t remember anything before about 15 seconds ago.” He pressed a harder kiss into Steve’s mouth that time, and Steve made a keening noise in the back of his throat at the contact, savouring every second in which Tony’s mouth was on him. He felt like he could just sit here forever, on the rooftop with Tony, kissing him, feeling the rapid thread of his heartbeat under his fingers as he curled his hands around Tony’s neck.

“Steve,” Tony whispered against his mouth, “Steve, do you even know- _God_ , do you even know what you do to me-“

“Mmm, I’d say so, yeah, seeing as I feel the fuckin’ same,” Steve replied, moving down to Tony’s jaw so he could lay kisses along the bone, “I saw you on the very first day and nearly got run over, I was staring so hard-“

“Kept trying to find you,” Tony leaned his head back languidly, biting his lip and shutting his eyes as Steve kissed his neck, “in school, for no reason- didn’t even know you, but I just had to, I didn’t know why but I just fucking had to-“

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for months-“

“You’re so beautiful Steve, so so beautiful, I could never look away and I wanted- but then I found out you were with Barnes and I thought I was gonna die-“

“Hey-“ Steve paused for a second as the question jumped into his mind, and Tony looked back toward him, eyes dark and huge as he stared, “why _did_ you think I was dating Bucky, anyway?”

Tony looked at him for a moment, before making a face. “Uh, maybe something to do with the fact that he immediately tried to start a fight with me after I drove you home and told me to stay away from you on pain of death? And you told me you loved him?”

Steve thought back to Tony and Bucky’s first meeting- and yeah, okay, maybe he should have cleared things up way back then, fuck, is that what had stopped Tony from making a move all this time? They could’ve been… for _weeks_ -

“I know,” Tony rolled his eyes and stroked his fingers along Steve’s face lightly, pushing his hair behind his ear as he smiled, “idiots, huh? Although to be fair, I'm not the only one who acted strange and irrational,” he argued, raising an eyebrow as he said "I was initially confused as to what your goal was when you came and joined me and- uh- Helen? No, wait, Helena, in the hall earlier this week- but now it does seem to make a little more sense."

 

At that, Steve felt himself grimace as his hands flexed over Tony’s jaw. It sent a spark down his spine, and the urge to kiss Tony again increased tenfold, so he gave in to the urge and pressed a bruising kiss into his lips. He didn't bother correcting her name. “Couldn’t fuckin’ stand her touchin’ you like that,” he muttered into Ton'y mouth, “not hers.”

“No,” Tony agreed breathlessly with a quick shake of his head, “no I’m not, I’m yours. That was- mmff, _fuck_ \- that was the nearest you’d ever been to be, y’know, I calculated it. And she kept tryn’a talk to me after that, but all that was going round in my head were- were those numbers, the distances, you-“

“Good,” Steve said earnestly, before pausing for a moment and looking down. “But Tony- I feel like I should warn you, I’ve not… I’ve never done any of this before, okay- never been in a relationship, never even kissed anyone. I’m probably gonna fuck up all the time, I don’t- I’m no good at this stuff-“

 

Tony leaned in and kissed him quiet; lips a soft press against Steve’s moving mouth- and really, Steve didn’t think he was ever going to get used to that; to the way Tony’s mouth felt against his own, to how softly Tony held him. It was addictive. It was perfect.

“I don’t care,” Tony mumbled with a shake of his head, pulling away to look at him earnestly, “don’t give a damn, Steve, look at me- I’m the one who should be warning you, you don’t… you deserve someone with so much more than I could possibly give you, but I’m selfish and I want to try anyway.” His voice was nothing more than a scared whisper as he leaned in, forehead against Steve’s own, shutting his eyes and breathing in Steve’s air with shaky rasps. Steve felt Tony’s hands flex against his sides; wanting to clutch, but holding himself back.

Steve kissed him again, and again and again and again, simply because he could and he never wanted to stop. “You’ve already done so much,” he promised with a sharp nod, “so much, Tony, I don’t want anything else-“

“I want to give you everything, though,” Tony spoke desperately, and when he looked up at Steve, it made him feel like he was something holy, “it- it scares me, how much you mean to me.”

Steve watched Tony as he bit his lip and looked down a little- and really, it should have been feeling more awkward than it was; Steve was a fumbling beginner at best, with no experience prior to this moment- and yet it was obvious even to him that Tony was… Tony was gone. Tony was gazing at him with the sunlight in his eyes, and he was so beautiful, so very beautiful, yet he seemed to only want Steve. All the choice in the world, and he only wanted Steve.  
Which didn’t make much sense- _any_ sense, really. But Steve was willing to take it. He would hold onto that with everything he had.

 

“You know,” Steve said softly; the tips of his fingers tracing around the edges of Tony’s face in fascination, “I never knew what this felt like until I met you.”

Tony’s eyes fell shut to the sensation of Steve’s fingers moving delicately across his skin, and he sighed contentedly. “Wanna know something?” He asked, lips curling as he smiled.

Steve nodded, and then Tony kissed him again. “Neither did I,” he admitted.

And that- that sounded so off in Steve’s ears. Tony? Tony Stark, the boy with everything; popularity and money and status and looks- but had never felt this before. Steve didn’t know what to think of that. It made him feel… strangely powerful. Tony; who was fast and loud and explosive and wild as a storm, was lying at his feet, heart in his hands, looking up at him as if Steve hung the stars in the sky.

It meant more to him than anything Tony could have said with words.

 

“Look,” Tony whispered, and Steve pulled himself from his own thoughts as the other boy nodded behind Steve, “the sun’s just starting to set.”

He was right; Steve turned to look over his shoulder and saw how the sun was just about touching the ocean- deep red and beautiful and bathing the huge grounds of the house in a deep orange light. It occurred to him in that moment that he and Tony were sat on the roof of some building in a place Steve didn’t know, with very little preventing him from just overbalancing and rolling right off the damn roof completely- Hell, the only way to get up here in the first place had been to dangle off the second story balcony and then climb the rest of the way up. Tony was mad, making him do this. Steve was madder for following.

But Steve figured he could use a little bit of mad, right now.

 

Placing one last feather-light kiss against Tony’s lips, he swivelled around slowly and then sunk into the space between Tony’s legs; feeling two arms wrap firmly around his hips and tug him in closer as he turned to face the beautiful view ahead of him. It was one of the most amazing sunsets he’d ever seen, left untainted by buildings and the sound of yells or cars. Tony had taken them to a place above all of that. _This_ was the top of the world.

 

“I wish you’d have been able to meet her,” Steve said, the ache coming back just for a moment, but dulled more with the fondness of remembrance than the pain of loss, “she was amazing. Would’a loved you.”

Tony laughed a little nervously, and Steve felt his fingers flex against his stomach. “You sure? What do you think she would’ve said about us, huh? ‘What the hell are you doing, Steve,  running around with a boy like him?’”

Steve turned his head, looking at him drily. “I think it would’ve been more along the lines of ‘hold onto that one, Stevie, you idiot. He’s the real deal.”

Tony smiled softly; pressing a kiss against Steve’s cheek and then turning back to the view. Steve knew they had to start heading back soon- they must have been gone more than an hour, and it was definitely considered rude to just abandon your guests at your own birthday party, but-

But Steve never wanted to leave this spot, right here in Tony’s arms. What was the point? He couldn’t think of anything worth leaving for.

Tony hummed in his ear, and Steve leaned his head back until it was rested against Tony’s chest, looking up at the cloud-scattered sky and feeling, for the first time in what may well have been years, utterly weightless. No heaviness dragging him down- no thoughts reminding him of everything he’d lost. In his palm was Tony’s hand, and in his pocket was his mother, sending him love, always.

As far as birthdays went, Steve could safely say it was one of the best.

 

With Tony at his back and New York in front of him, Steve sat on the roof and watched the Sun setting over his city.  
And it was stupid to think it, but fuck, Steve turned his head to look at Tony and the only thing he could think was ‘I want this forever’.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the sappiest most plotless shit of the entire thing, I think. I basically make them kiss for 12k. Enjoy!

They stayed there, up on the roof for another hour, until the sun was well below the horizon and the skies had turned dark. Neither of them wanted to move, but eventually Tony persuaded him that it was probably for the best, if only to keep his friends from worrying. So they’d made their way back to Tony’s bike practically melded to one another- neither wanting to let go, even for a second.

 

When Tony walked Steve to his door half an hour later, he was wearing the most adorably bashful smile Steve had ever seen in his life. “This is very stupid, but I don’t really want to let go of your hand right now,” he admitted, a little pink flush creeping across his cheeks as he watched his own feet shuffle nervously along the floor.

Steve beamed as he glanced down at their joined fingers, and then found himself vehemently agreeing with this. But unfortunately, much as he may have wanted to, he couldn’t actually spend the rest of his life holding Tony’s hand.

Instead, he raised an eyebrow and stepped into Tony’s space. “My friends are currently all staring at us through the crack in the curtains,” he said with a smile, “you wanna give ‘em a show?”

Tony didn’t even bother looking at them- just grinned cheekily and then nodded. “It would be my pleasure,” he muttered, before lunging forward, grabbing the back of Steve’s legs and lifting smoothly. Steve went with a yelp, hooking his legs around Tony’s waist as the other boy leaned up and slotted their mouths together messily. There was a sharp thud as his back hit the door, and he tried to hold back a manic grin as he wound his hands around Tony’s neck and kissed back with enthusiasm.

They made out energetically against the door for at least ten seconds before Tony finally pulled back a little, pressing one last tiny kiss to Steve’s mouth as he went. “Good enough?” He asked, lip pulling upward in satisfaction.

Steve just choked a little bit, nodding. Like this, he could see where Tony got his reputation from. He knew this game. He had Steve pinned up against the door, kissing him within an inch of his life like it was the simplest thing to do in the world, cocky grin on his face as his hands curled firmly around the back of Steve's thighs. At this, there was no doubt- Tony Stark was a pro.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Tony whispered as Steve unhooked his legs from around Tony’s waist and dropped back to earth with a little stumble. He smiled down; fingers curling under Steve’s chin in order to swipe a thumb lightly over his bottom lip. Steve stood utterly still; watching Tony’s eyes darken a little, breathing in sharply for a second before looking back up into Steve.

“Until next time, Steve Rogers,” Tony murmured, placing one last kiss to his mouth and then lingering, just for a moment, until finally turning around. He glanced over the window and waved, and Steve saw his friends stare back, open-mouthed.

Tony walked down the path, hands shoved in his pockets. Steve just watched from the door, noting every glance behind him Tony made until the moment he rounded the corner and disappeared from view completely.  
It felt like a dream.

 

Of course, two seconds later it was ruined as the door Steve had been leaning against was yanked open, sending him tumbling backward and into Peggy’s waiting arms. She latched on to his flailing hands, pulling him in with an excited yell. “Oh God, you finally ballsed up and kissed the boy!”

He was suddenly surrounded by friends yelling and whooping, and he rolled his eyes fondly but was unable to stop the happy little grin that took over his face as he received various pats and hugs. Bucky lifted him up and spun him with a whoop, and Thor just ruffled his hair and then offered him a bottle of mead, which he took gratefully.

“Be expecting the cavalry at your door sometime soon,” Thor told him with a clap on the shoulder, wiggling his eyebrows mysteriously.

Steve cocked his head and squinted. Thor shrugged, leaning in. “There are few people who care much about Tony. But those who do, do not do it by halves. Myself included. Although I shall refrain from the threats, considering I know you well and doubt you have any malevolent intentions toward my friend. The other two, though, may not be so sparing.”

“Did you know you talk like a historical period actor when you get drunk?” Steve blurted, whilst wondering who these ‘other two’ were exactly. Siblings? Did Tony have brothers and sisters- really, Steve should’ve found that out by now-

“Aye,” Thor nodded proudly, pounding his chest with fervor, “I was taught English by a Professor of Norse Mythology. He thought it amusing to teach me to sound like a Viking! I too, find this funny- only when inebriated though.”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh at the pure Thor-ness of that; patting him on the shoulder as he made his way out of the door, Jane under his arm. “Until next time, Steve! May these last few hours of your birthday be as merry as can be. I had a wonderful time tonight.” At that, he looked down at Jane with a softness Steve hadn’t ever seen in the boy before, and then saw the bashful little smile Jane returned him. It was… adorable, that’s what it was.

He eyed them as they left together, talking and laughing amongst themselves. Peggy wandered up to his side, nudging him in the ribs until he sighed and turned to her. “Yes?” He asked, cocking his head in question like he didn’t already know exactly what Peggy was talking about.

She wiggled her eyebrows and then laughed, smiling her lovely smile as she jumped up and down next to him. “He kissed you!” She said with a squeal, and Steve felt the infectious excitement buzz inside him as he joined her in jumping around the room.  
So sue him, he was _happy_ , goddamn it.

 Bucky’s arm suddenly wound around his neck and pulled him in, plucking him out of the air mid-jump in order to give him a tight hug. “That took you a horrifically long time,” he groused with a shake of his head, smile warm and pleased.

Steve giggled a little hysterically. He could still taste Tony in his mouth; the lingering tang of cigarette smoke and just a hint of coffee settled on his lip, where Tony’s mouth had met his. “I think I’m high,” he declared, accepting the pat on the back Bruce gave him as he said his goodbyes and began making his own way out of the room.

“Yeah, this honeymoon phase is gonna be a _bitch_ to deal with,” Sam muttered from the corner of the room, but he looked fond as he cast a glance to Steve, “I’m begging you man, put a sign on the door when you start fucking, I don’t wanna be dealing with that-“

“ _Sam!”_ Steve yelped, cheeks flaming as he looked for something to throw. When he found nothing, he simply chose to give him the middle finger, which Sam returned fondly.

Peggy looked to him with another beam, before punching him playfully on the shoulder again. “Me and Bucky really have to get going, but I swear, I’m getting every little detail out of you tomorrow without fail, so prepare yourself, Rogers,” she told him.

Steve could admit, he made a pleased sort of sound in the back of his throat at that. He was pretty sure he was going to love retelling it almost as much as he’d loved living through it. “Sure will,” he said, giving her another hug. She returned it with enthusiasm before kissing him on the cheek and then wiping away the little lipstick stain.

“How do you feel?” She asked quietly, looking down at him with her big brown eyes and tucking a little strand of hair behind his ear.

“...Happy,” he responded, voice coming out a little bit more choked off than he’d intended.  
Because he did. He really, really did. And it was… It was a big step, for him.

Peggy knew that too, because her smile was impossibly large as he leaned in, unable to resist another hug. “I’m glad,” she whispered in his ear before pulling away, grabbing her coat from the rail and backing up a few steps, “and also jealous. I’m now the only one in this room who’s single. I feel like a social outcast.”

“It’s because no one’s good enough for you,” Bucky told her with a roll of his eyes, “your standards are too high, lady.”

“They’re not high, they’re average- it’s just that boys are consistently disappointing me,” Peggy said haughtily, then bumped fists with Natasha as she raised her hand in silent support.

Steve watched, still in somewhat of a daze as one by one his friends departed into the night, leaving him with hugs and smiles and promises of interrogation later on. He still felt a little light-headed. Maybe he hadn’t been getting enough oxygen, what with all that _kissing Tony_ he’d been doing.

Fuck, it didn’t sound real in his head. Had it happened at all? Maybe he’d just imagined it.

“Did I imagine it?” He asked Sam, once Bucky had closed the door behind him and emptied the room of all guests.

“My man, there ain’t no way of imagining a kiss like _that_ ,” Sam patted him on the back and then grinned, looking ridiculously smug as he took in Steve’s face, etched in what seemed to be a permanent state of shock. “How do you feel?”

He thought about the question for a moment. How _did_ he feel? He couldn’t really describe it. Like floating on a cloud, high above everything else that mattered. God. Tony was… Tony had given him his voicemail back, and he’d run Steve over to a corner of God only knows where in New York to watch the sun set, and he’d kissed Steve like he was the only important thing in the world-

“Like I’m stupidly in love,” he admitted through a slow exhale, shutting his eyes and vowing to himself to burn the memories of this night into his memory so he never forgot the way Tony had looked when they’d broken apart for a second to catch their breaths.

He was so gone, it wasn’t even funny.

To his left, Sam whistled slowly under his breath. “That’s… wow, that’s great, Steve,” he said, a soft look on his face, “I’m glad you finally worked that out with him. And he’d hang the moon for you too, y’know.”

 

With his phone resting firmly in his pocket, Steve sighed quietly. “I do know,” he answered, “I really do.”

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

He woke up at seven.

 

This confused him at first. Mainly because it was a Sunday, and that meant that there was no way he’d ever open his eyes before he was at least into double figures of the clock. So the fact he appeared to have regained consciousness three whole hours before those double figures had even occurred was deeply concerning.

 

He blinked, rubbing a hand over his eyes and then looking up at the ceiling. A second later, the off-beat ringing tune of Sam’s doorbell went off downstairs, and he realized with a sigh that that was probably what had woken him up.

Who the fuck called at 7am anyway? On a _Sunday_?

With a groan, Steve rolled over, debating whether or not to just ignore them and fall back to sleep again. The thought was very tempting- he did not function well in the morning hours, and it took a while to stretch his temper out to acceptable human-interaction levels. Chances were, the person on the other side of the door wasn’t going to be getting a great welcome if he did actually leave his room.

But then they rang again, and he heard Sam shrieking something that sounded a lot like ‘your room’s closest!’ from across the hall-  which really didn’t leave Steve with a lot of other options.

With an irritated huff, he rolled into sitting position and yawned, grabbing a ratty hoodie from the foot of his bed before stumbling out into the hall and down the stairs. He could see not one, but two heads through the frosted glass of the door ahead, and frowned sleepily.

Glancing at himself in the mirror, he noted the puffy eyes and static hair with a small frown, but ultimately didn’t think much of it. It wasn’t like he was going to be having a long conversation with whoever this was.

“You know,” he said loudly once he got to the door, hands working at the lock and yanking it open, “most people wait until the sun’s properly risen to do social calls, just so they can avoid the annoying process of having to wake some innocent boy u- oh.”

He stopped, squinting up at the two towering figures on his doorstep. One was James- wait, Rhodey, that’s what Tony had called him- and another was… unknown.

They were both dressed sharply; the girl in a sleek ponytail and red lips, darker than the sort Peggy wore. Rhodey had his arms folded, and his eyes were solemn as he looked at Steve unwaveringly.

“Sorry for the antisocial time,” the girl said swiftly, smiling with practiced politeness, “it was the only time today both me and Rhodey would be available. I’m Pepper, by the way.” She extended a perfectly manicured hand, and Steve, now feeling somehow as if he hadn’t gotten the memo and had instead come to this meeting thoroughly underdressed, just took it dazedly.

Maybe he should have at least tried to smooth his hair down a bit. Or washed his face.

“Why are you… what?” He asked, words still sitting thick in his mouth as his brain attempted to boot itself back up from its night of sleep. “Rhodey, why are you here?”

They both glanced shortly toward each other at that, before Rhodey sighed and Pepper said “Tony.”

 

And just like that, Steve was wide awake.

 

He jerked his head to Rhodey, instantly seeing the dark clothes and smart dress and early morning and solemn faces and remembering, oh God, he remembered how his teacher had called him out of class that day 6 months ago with the same face, _‘I’m so sorry to tell you this Steve-‘_

“What happened,” he said numbly, gripping the side of the door so tight he thought his fingers would snap, “oh God, what happened, is he- is he-“

“Hey, hey,” suddenly Rhodey looked concerned, and he stepped forward, arm going out to touch Steve’s shoulder gently, “he’s fine, what do you m- oh. _Oh_. Oh _God_ no, we’re not here to… no. No, Steve, nothing happened to him, he’s probably fast asleep in his bed right now, I swear.”

Pepper was looking at them both in confusion, and Rhodey was nodding to him assuringly. Steve hesitated another second, before breathing in sharply and then looking down to the floor.  
Right. He probably shouldn’t jump to the worst conclusion possible immediately after hearing only one word. That was just dumb.

“Sorry,” Rhodey muttered, and his voice was at least a little softer now, slightly sheepish, which was nice. The lines of his body were a bit more relaxed too. “Didn’t think. He really is okay though.”

“Then why are you here?” He asked again, glancing over at the Pepper girl who was still stood outside the door and looking at him with an observant gaze. Because he was polite, he opened the door a little and made a notion with his hand, gesturing her in. She smiled briefly and then stepped inside, her heels clacking on the tile and emphasizing just how much taller than Steve she was.

Dammit, _one_ day he was gonna grow. Then at least he wouldn’t get neck cramps from looking up at tall people all damn day.

“We'd like to make a few things known about Tony,” Pepper answered swiftly, no hesitation in her voice as she looked down at him. Rhodey nodded, face turning more serious again as he stepped back a little.

Steve looked at them warily. He could feel his guard coming up automatically, but he tried to tamp down on the urge to get defensive. Rhodey was Tony’s best friend, and he’d heard the name Pepper get thrown around a few times too. They obviously had good intentions.

“Okay,” he said slowly, eyeing them both up and then jerking his head, “you wanna come into the kitchen and sit?”

“We’re not staying long,” Rhodey said with a small shake of his head, “just stopping by, making a few things clear, you know.”

Okay, and that was definitely confrontational talk; Steve reacted almost subconsciously to it, his back straightening and his eyes going quickly to the door. “What _things_?”

Pepper sighed, a nail scraping along her forehead. “Rhodey made that sound a lot more threatening than it was meant to be. I really am sorry about this, by the way- I know you probably think we’re very odd, but… well, I don’t really care about that if it means I can go home with my mind resting easy.” She shook her head a little and raised a hand in question, “look, I’m gonna cut to the chase here. We want to know what your intentions with Tony are.”

In front of them, Steve just blinked a few times, eyes narrowing incredulously. “Excuse me?”

“You kissed him, last night,” Rhodey told him, “he rang me after he left; could barely string a coherent sentence together, he was that excited. I’ve never seen him like that before, with anyone.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve waved a hand and cut him off before he could say anything more, “but is this really any of your business?”

“It is, actually,” Pepper said with a sharp smile, “because if you suddenly decide to change your mind, or you hurt him- which everyone else has so far- then it will be us and Thor who have to pick him up off the ground and stop him doing something undoubtedly stupid to try and compensate for it. I’ve seen quite enough of Tony dealing with loss to last a lifetime, and if I never watch him go through it again it’ll be too soon. So,” she shrugged, looking at him with raised eyebrows, “we just want to know how you feel about him.”

Steve spluttered. How the hell was he even supposed to answer that question? He didn’t know what he’d tell his _friends_ , let alone these relative strangers. “I…”

“What do you feel about paying for dates?” Rhodey asked before Steve could even get a word in edgeways.

He stared in bafflement. “I- I guess we’d go fifty-fifty? Or I pay for it when I take him out, he pays when he takes m-“

“D’you like being the center of attention? Do you think being with Tony’s gonna make you famous?” Pepper added, taking out her phone and beginning to tap something.

“I fucking hate people getting involved in my private life, to be honest,” Steve said bitingly, glaring at them both, “fame is not something I give a damn about. All I care about is-“

“How long do you intend to keep this up? Are you looking for long-term, or is more of a curiosity thing?” And okay- that was it, he was _definitely_ offended now. Steve waved a hand through the air sharply, silencing any other interrogations either of the two could give out.

“How fucking dare you,” he said, voice quiet, “you think I’m what, just there to love him and leave him? You think I want his money? Fame? You’re coming into my house, accusing me of shit when you don’t even _know_ me? I- Jesus, I love that idiot, God damn it, and I would never use him like that. _Ever_. So drop the overprotective parents act, ‘cause otherwise I’m gonna struggle to be civil with you, and I know that will only upset Tony. I want to like you, if only for his sake, but don’t make it difficult for me.”

There was silence for a few moments, before he watched Rhodey turn and raise an eyebrow at Pepper. He actually looked pleased, rather than offended. “I told you he was good,” the boy said to her quietly. She rolled her eyes, but as she turned back to Steve, there was a sheepish smile on her face.

“Thank you, Steve,” she said earnestly, which just confused him even further, “that… tells us a lot, actually. We didn’t mean to offend you, but we wanted to check.” Her face fell a little, revealing something harder when she added: “People tend to have ulterior motives when it comes to Tony. We’re almost all he has- we have to look out for him.”

Steve looked at the both of them, mind working as best it could at 7am on a Sunday morning. “Thor called you The Cavalry,” he blurted in the end, which… wasn’t really what he’d wanted to say, but that was early-morning thought processing for you, “I kinda get that now.”

They both laughed a little, looking at one another and shrugging. “He’s not far off, really,” Rhodey admitted with a shrug, “we can accept making a few enemies if it means there’s one less asshole poking around in Tony’s life.”

“Well, we’re fighting for the same cause then, pal,” Steve responded, finally letting his shoulders relax a little as the tension began to drain from the room, “I understand. I mean, I’d have appreciated if you could have left it a little later, and maybe not acted so… intimidating, but-“

“Oh, that wasn’t even us being intimidating,” Pepper said absently, turning another smile on, “you should see us when we’re talking to a real shitwipe. It gets scary.”

Steve almost laughed, before the sensation died in his throat slightly. “Do you have to do this… often?”

They glanced at eachother again- Steve felt like he missed whole conversations from those eyes alone. Eventually, Rhodey just sighed, leaning wearily against the wall and shaking his head a bit.

“Not relationship-wise, no,” he admitted, “Tony doesn’t usually let himself do… this,” he waved a vague hand in Steve’s direction, “and the ones Tony _has_ stuck around with were either people we were dumb enough to trust or-“ Rhodey’s face turned sour, and the muscle in his jaw twitched a little.

“Tiberius,” Pepper finished for him, eyebrows knitting together a fraction before she purposely relaxed herself and smiled again, “and seeing as he’s pretty much untouchable, we couldn’t exactly threaten him. So please excuse us for perhaps… overcompensating with the shovel-talk with you, but there’s a lot of bad experience there, and we’re not keen on standing by and letting it get repeated.”

Steve remembered everything he’d heard about the name Tiberius- what Thor said, what Steve had seen for himself. He felt as his dislike for the guy racked up a few more notches. “Why the hell does Tony even hang out with him if he’s such an asswipe?”

At that, Rhodey snorted. “You’ll have to ask him that, ‘cause fuck if we know.”

Pepper glanced at her watch then, and turned back to Steve with an apologetic look on her face. “Sorry, but we’ve really gotta head off now. I’m sorry for bursting in on you like this- It was nice meeting you Steve.” She paused, contemplating her words for a moment before taking in a small breath and pinning her gaze right on his own. “Although I’ll just say, if you do end up hurting him with intent, then you’re going to wish you’d never met _me_.”

She smiled warmly at him, reaching out to shake his hand as if she hadn’t just given him a very ominous threat less than a second previously, and then stepped back out of the still-open door again, heels making their clicking noise underfoot as she walked away. Rhodey watched her for a moment, before nodding once.

“She’s terrifying,” he informed Steve, who had just become perfectly aware of that fact, “more so than I ever could be- so I’m gonna go with the more human approach here.”

Steve watched him as Rhodey pulled himself off the wall, clapping Steve lightly on the back as he moved past. “Don’t hurt him,” he said, and his tone wasn’t threatening- it was pleading, “he’s crazy about you, Steve. He’s… he’s happier than I think I’ve seen him in a long time. Just… try and be careful, yeah? He’s a lot more vulnerable than he’d ever let anyone believe. And people have hurt him, before. It’s… just be kind. Please. That’s all I can ask.” He smiled, patting Steve on the shoulder again. “But I also will reinforce the fact that we will methodically hunt you down if you hurt him. Just so we’re clear.”

Steve cracked a small smile. His thoughts had drifted to Tony again, surprise surprise. “Crystal,” he answered, hand going back to the door as Rhodey stepped through it. “Also, I’m just gonna formally apologize on Bucky’s behalf. I’m guessing from the last time you saw us all that your impression of him is- uh- not that great. But it was all just a misunderstanding and-“

“I know,” Rhodey rolled his eyes, looking a little petulant, but still smiling, “Tony explained it to me. Still think he’s an asshole though.”

Steve shrugged. “Understandable.”

He heard Rhodey’s chuckle as he stepped out of the door and looked out to the car Pepper had now sat herself in. “I’ll see you ‘round, Steve. Look after him for me, yeah?”

Rhodey’s eyes were serious as he turned to Steve again. They looked at each other for a moment, and then Steve nodded once. He felt like some sort of mantle had just been unconsciously passed to him. “I promise,” he said firmly, which seemed to be good enough for Rhodey, because his shoulders dropped a little bit and he relaxed, turning away once more with a wave of his hand. Steve watched him all the way to his car before closing the door in front of him and then just sighing tiredly.

He was _not_ ready to deal with that level of emotion-fuelled dramatics at seven in the God Damn morning. He hadn’t even had breakfast yet, for goodness’ sake.

Unable to resist, he pulled his phone out from the pocket of his hoodie and opened it up, going straight to Tony’s contact.

****

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _So Pepper’s nice._

Rubbing his eyes and smiling, he plodded back up the stairs and headed into his room, head falling immediately into the pillow once he was back inside. On the other side of the hall, Sam made a questioning groaning sound, which Steve responded to with a jumbled series of words that didn’t make sense to anyone. Sam seemed to take it, though, because he made an agreeing sound and then started snoring a few seconds later.

7am really was far too early for any normal human being to be awake on a Sunday.

He tucked himself back into the covers and shut his eyes, mind drifting to Tony’s friends and their words. It concerned him a little, that they had to do that. Made something twist in his gut- because what kind of people must Tony have been associating with before, to make his two friends so nervous? It wasn’t right, and it didn’t make sense to him. Tony didn’t belong with the people he hung out with- Ty and Justin and Sunset and all the worst kids in school. He belonged with people who actually cared. Like Steve.

He wondered if Tony had been serious, last night. About them being… a thing. A couple. He definitely _seemed_ like he meant it- but then again, God only knew what went on in Tony’s head. Steve had known him for a while now, but he was still managing to leave Steve confused with almost every conversation.

But he’d called Rhodey. And Rhodey said he was… that he was happy. That definitely meant something, and Steve knew Rhodey wouldn’t lie about that. Or march into his home and dole out thinly veiled threats to him if this wasn’t a least a little bit serious.

 

Steve needed to stop overthinking it. Tony liked him- that much was obvious. Steve was allowed to have this: it was about damn time, after all. And on more than one occasion, both Bucky and Peggy had accused him of doing his level best to sabotage his own happiness, so maybe for once he needed to let himself just… have this. Take it for what it was and not try and reason his way out of it.

Tony liked him. Tony liked him and Tony had _kissed him_ and Tony wanted to be in a relationship with him and God, the thought still sent electricity racing down his spine.

 

He still couldn’t believe he’d really been kissed. And as first attempts went, Steve liked to think he hadn’t done too badly. Tony had seemed to enjoy it, anyway.

He grinned into the pillows, knowing his cheeks had probably gone a little pink from the thought alone. And dammit, now he just wanted to see Tony all over again- barely awake for more than ten minutes, but his mind had already gone straight back to that boy. He seriously needed to get a grip on himself.

Although there really wasn’t much point now. He’d crossed the line of no return weeks ago. No going back anymore.

Well. There were worse things to be addicted to, he supposed.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

It couldn’t have been more than a few hours later when Steve heard his bedroom door slamming open, and he scrambled upright in bed just in time to watch almost every single one of his friends march determinedly into his tiny room, most of them immediately getting comfortable on his single bed and turning a deaf ear on his yells of surprise.

He spluttered a few times, trying to make sense of the sudden arrival of each one of his friends in his room. They were all staring at him expectantly, like they expected him to do something glorious at 9:50 in the morning.

“What the _fuck_ , guys?” He asked after a second, “you all know my rule about double digits before consciousness. Not cool.”

Next to him on the bed, Natasha waved a hand. “We figured we could override the rule just once, due to extenuating circumstances.”

“And what extenuating circumstances may these be, can I ask?”

Natasha just looked at him blankly, like he’d said something stupid and not a genuine damn question.  “We want to know the details. Obviously?”

Steve looked around at them all- at Sam and Bucky and Natasha and Clint, at Peggy and- Jesus, even _Jan_ had turned up- he barely even knew that girl.  
News really traveled fast, huh?

 

For the record, he tried to keep a straight face. He really did. It was just… hard, with the memories so fresh in his mind.

 

“Well,” Steve shrugged as nonchalantly picking at a seam in his bedsheet and biting his lip, “you know… I’m pretty sure I’m in a relationship with Tony Stark now, so-“

He felt the smiles directed his way, and the cheering started up a moment later, similar to what had happened last night. Someone wrapped a firm hand around his shoulder, and when he looked up, he saw Sam staring down at him like some sort of proud father. “Took you long enough, dude.”

“Who initiated?” Clint got straight to the point, rolling onto his bed and looking at him from upside-down, “it was Tony, wasn’t it? Was he a good kisser? What base did you g-“

“Clint!” Jan shoved a pillow over his face and then sat on him, turning to look at Steve. “But seriously, how good _is_ he at kissing?”

Steve leaned back against the headboard as his friends shuffled closer, eyes wide and curious. “He was…” Steve waved a hand, looking up to the ceiling and desperately trying to keep his cheeks from getting hot, “he was everything I’d thought he would be.”

To the left, Bucky groaned. “Oh God, Peggs, our predictions were correct. Give him a relationship and he’ll turn into the biggest sap you’ve ever met. We’ve unleashed a damn monster-“

“Shut up, grumpy sod,” Peggy poked him with her foot and rolled her eyes, “he’s happy, look at him.”

Steve glanced over to Bucky, and his eyes were rolling, but when they focused back on Steve, he looked uncharacteristically soft. A hand brushed playfully through his hair, before stopping at the back of his neck. “You sure about that?” Bucky asked him lightly, raising an eyebrow. Double checking. Always looking out, just in case.

“I am,” Steve nodded slowly, a small smile on his face as he looked up at his best friend, “I promise.”

Bucky eyed him for an extra moment. “Because I know we’re technically on good terms now, but I’ll still go over there and punch him if you w-“

“ _Bucky!”_ everyone yelled simultaneously, and Bucky shielded himself as various objects were thrown at him in response, Steve giving him an exasperated shove and sending him into the wall.  “All right, all right- no punching. Plus I’m not sure which one of us would win anyway, and I’m not up for having my pride hit like that. Don’t worry, your pretty boy’s safe.” Bucky shot him a look, and Steve just sighed fondly, knowing Bucky was pulling his leg.

“I can’t imagine what it’d be like to have Tony Stark kiss me,” Jan said, leaning back and hanging her head over the edge of the bed before pulling a face. “Probably weird. I’ve known him since he was in diapers.”

“I’ll have you know _I_ kissed _him_ , actually,” Steve told them haughtily, “the first time, anyway.”

“You kissed him?” Nat asked, raising her eyebrows, “wouldn’t have called that one.”

Steve turned to her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, you continue-“

“I totally have the guts to kiss someone first. Hell, I just did!”

“And we’re very proud Steven,” Peggy patted him on the shin and then flicked him, “but how did it happen? Where did you two sneak off to last night?”

Steve huffed, head lolling against the wall again. “He drove me through New York on his motorbike,” he said, voice dreamy, “took me to this house, really beautiful. Abandoned for years, but Tony knew a way in. We went up to the roof.”

“God, I’m getting hives just listening to him,” Clint told Natasha, who gave him a swift smack across the back of the head and then gestured for Steve to continue.

“He… he gave me my birthday present,” Steve turned to look at Bucky then, hand curling subconsciously around his phone. Bucky began to frown at the serious face Steve was making, but Steve just shook his head, a silent gesture for him to wait a minute. “It was beautiful. Really, he… it was amazing.”

“What was it, then?”

He shook his head and just smiled, despite the nagging his friends subjected him to in order to try and make him spill. He couldn’t explain it without them wondering _how_ exactly Tony managed to retrieve the voicemail, and Steve had promised not to let anyone know about what sort of things his brain could do, so he had to remain silent.

He’d show Bucky later, though. He’d want to hear it. It was almost as important to him as it had been to Steve.

 

They spent the next hour in his room; simply lounging around trying to wring out as much detail as possible from him. Jan hugged him three times- Clint poked him twice as much, and Natasha even squeezed his arm and told him she was glad he was happy. They laughed loudly and made Mr. & Mrs. Wilson yell at them all for waking both of them up on their lie-in day, and after that, they managed to drag Steve out of his bed and downstairs into the living room to continue talking. He somehow ended up in a pile on the floor, Bucky and Clint underneath him, Sam perching precariously on his stomach.

And hell- despite Sam’s presence on top of him, he still managed to feel sort of… weightless.  
It was weird. Good sort of weird, though.

 

Smiling to himself, he shoved Sam off and sat up, brushing down the mess his hair had become. “Is that someone’s phone?” He asked everyone, hearing the vibrating noise.

“Yeah, idiot, it’s yours,” Sam rolled over and snatched the phone from his back pocket. Steve went to grab it, but Sam pulled his hand away, eyebrows raising smugly. “Oh, and guess who it is?”

He turned the phone around, Tony’s name flashing on the screen. Steve sighed loudly, but unfortunately, his traitorous cheeks gave away the immediate rush of adrenaline he felt at the sight of Tony’s name. “Give it here, idiot.”

With another terribly smug grin, Sam handed it over. Steve pressed his hand over the button, before sparing all his friends a withering stare. “If any of you make sex noises when I answer, I’m burying each and every one of you. And yes, I’m looking at you, Barton.”

He ignored the offended response Clint gave him in favor of swiping sideways and pulling the phone up to his ear. “Hey, Tony,” he said lightly, jumping to his feet. Around him, there were various quiet ‘oooh’ noises, and he shot the room an unimpressed look before slipping out of the door and hurrying down the corridor.

“Please don’t hate my friends, I swear, they are normal people, they are just ridiculously overprotective of me and like to vet anyone who gets within a three-foot radius of me if they can manage. Pepper is actually a sweetheart, really, I promise… Oh no, they didn’t threaten you did they? God, I’m gonna fucking kill them-“  Tony’s harried voice rang clearly through the speaker, and Steve couldn’t help but chuckle at the lack of introduction and the way Tony had instead chosen to dive straight into the middle of a conversation.

“It’s fine, Tony,” Steve said, sinking onto the third stair and then curling his hand around the banister, “they were… polite about it, at least. Well. Mostly.”

There was a short pause, and then Steve heard a long, staticky groan. “Oh my God. Oh my- I am so sorry Steve-“

“Seriously, don’t worry about it,” Steve laughed gently, “Bucky shoved you into the concrete the first time you met him, so I figure this is fair. They- they must care a whole lot about you.”

Another pause. “I… yeah. They do. Seem to think I’m one of Peter Pan’s fucking Lost Boys by the way they attempt to mother-hen me, though,” Tony grumbled mutinously through the line, and Steve laughed reflexively, but he couldn’t help agree a little with Tony’s friends’ judgment. What with Tony’s track record, Steve thought the title was pretty fitting.

“Well, I’ve got the message,” Steve chuckled, head thumping against the stairs as he leaned back, “’don’t mess Tony around or you will be hunted down and possibly skinned’.” He paused, before adding: “Not that I ever _would_ , obviously, I was- I was just… you know what I mean.”

Down the line, Tony made a humming sound. Steve thought he was smiling. “yeah, I know what you mean, Steve,” he responded, voice soft.

God, Steve didn’t think he was ever going to get tired of listening to him speak.

“Anyway,” Tony said after a few moments of silence, “apologies on behalf of my terrible friends aside, I did actually call for a reason.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah- I need you to come over. Briefly.” Steve frowned when he heard a few clatters in the background and a muffled curse. “I’m having a few technical difficulties and I would appreciate some… assistance.”

“What sort of assistance?” Steve said slowly, beginning to stand, “is it something that would be better suited for, say, the fire department?”

“Obviously not, they’re not nearly as trustworthy,” Tony muttered, just before a second little staticky noise and the sound of a distant voice behind him

“Who’re you with?” Steve, hurried up the stairs, heading into his room, “can’t they offer you help?”

Tony made a tutting noise down the line. “Trying to reject my invitation, Rogers?”

“It _is_ very early.”

“What if I told you the lab was gonna explode if I’m left to my own devices?”

“ _WHAT?”_

“I mean- okay, uh, not like… majorly. Just a little. And I’d much rather it didn’t do that, you know? I’m not gonna die, don’t freak out,” Tony assured him hurriedly as Steve froze in the middle of his room, “just… an inconvenience, really-“

“You consider laboratory explosions to be an inconvenience?”

“If you think I’m bad, don’t ever go into Bruce’s lab when he’s stressed.”

Steve sighed, palming his forehead and shaking his head, holding off on a tiny smile. “Is this what it’s always like with you?”

A short chuckle, and then Tony shuffled again. “Wait and find out,” he told Steve casually, although it was near-impossible to miss the tentativeness behind his words.

His heart lurched. “I intend to,” he reached out and pulled his jacket off the hook, swinging it around his shoulder, “God help me- I’m on my way, don’t die until I get there.”

Tony laughed, “I’ll do my best. See you in a bit.”

The call cut, and Steve giggled like a kid into the empty room before turning on his heel and scrambling for the bathroom. Once inside, he briefly despaired over the state of his hair in the dusty mirror, before grabbing his comb and trying to flatten it into place. A quick wash of his face and rigorous teeth-brushing later, and he was about as good as he was going to get.

Well- Tony hadn’t seemed to mind it so far, right?

 

“I’m sorry, but I’m abandoning you all again,” Steve stuck his head around the door of the living room and smiled brightly at them all, “I’ve been given a better offer, and honestly, you were only really here in the first place because I couldn’t get you all to leave.“

“Oh, so Steve gets a man and suddenly his best buds’ gotta take the back-burner?” Sam told him from the floor, “I see how it is. What happened to bros before hoes?”

“Ha ha,” Steve rolled his eyes and swung off the door frame, “I’m gonna veto that rule on the grounds that Tony is super hot and I get to make out with him, which is honestly much more appealing than staying here and being sat on by Sam again. Sorry!” His friends booed at him loudly, but he only laughed as he ducked back out of the door and grabbed his keys from the side. “I say that with the utmost love!” He called out to them all, before pulling open the door and stepping outside.

He grinned to himself as he pulled out his phone, Tony’s contact already up on his phone.

 

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Anything exploded yet?_

 

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _It’s been close, but nothing so far._

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _If you walk in and I have no eyebrows, you’ll know that I ran out of luck whilst you were on your way._

 

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _I better speed up then. I like your eyebrows._

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _??? Thank you, my eyebrows like you too._

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _But definitely speed up. I haven’t kissed you in nearly 12 hours now._

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _Not that I’ve been counting._

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _Okay so maybe I did a little bit of counting. But counting’s my thing, it’s allowed._

 **_Tony Stark_ ** _: You know what? I think we should just ignore these texts from now on. It’s been a while since I last slept._

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _God, you concern me._

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _I’m fifteen minutes out, I’ll see you soon. Please don’t explode._

****

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Promise x_

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

Tony’s mansion was huge.

 

It had overwhelmed him the first time, and that feeling hadn’t changed much the second time ‘round either. Steve was still finding his jaw dropping in awe as he stared up at the grand building in front of him.

He made his way slowly toward the main entrance, peering into the garage on his way up and noting the array of cars on display. The red Ferrari- the one that belonged to Tony’s dad- wasn’t there, though, and Steve wondered if that had anything to do with the fact that Tony had invited him over.

 

Beginning to walk up to the front steps, he swallowed a little and then peered at the door. If he knocked, would anyone even hear the damn thing?

 

Luckily, the problem was solved for him. As he stood there and pondered, there was a staticky noise for a second, and then suddenly he heard the sound of a mechanism clicking. That must have been Tony, from wherever he was in the building.

Alright. Okay. It was just a house. A ridiculously big, expensive house, but still- a house. He could find Tony in it.

Hopefully.

“Uh, Tony?” He called out, stepping onto the pristine white tiles and looking up the spiral staircase to his left. That’s where Tony’s room was last time he’d been right?

At that moment, his phone began buzzing again. Steve jumped, the tune ringing out loudly in the percussive silence of the hall, but took it to his ear a moment later. “Okay, so how do I navigate your house?”

“Find down and go to it.”

“Can I just ask- does that make sense in your head? Because it certainly doesn’t in mine.”

He heard Tony laugh down the line- even the tinny static from the phone managing to make Steve’s spine tingle. “No, okay, that wasn’t the best explanation. Turn left, and go into the big corridor. There’s a set of stairs at the bottom that leads to the basement. I’m down there.”

“Ahh, the basement,” Steve nodded and began walking to where Tony had instructed, “because that’s not the start to every horror movie ever.”

“Are you saying I’m luring you down here to murder you?”

“I’m saying The Murderer is luring me down to the basement whilst _pretending_ to be you so that he can murder me, yes.”

“I don’t think the murderer knows the fifteen-digit encrypted password on the door though,” Tony told him evenly, and Steve’s eyebrows rose as he looked at the futuristic keypad in front of him and wandered closer to the door. Before he could even ask, though, Tony was reeling it off for him- a string of numbers and letter that Steve could barely keep up with. He got it, though, and the door released, letting him push it open and step quickly down the thin staircase.

“This is very… steampunk,” he said, turning along with the curve of the stairs until coming to the bottom, “I’m digging it-oh, wow.”

 

He stopped dead in his tracks, whole body freezing to an unceremonious halt as he took in the room around him- the flickering glow of the LED lights and the wires that were strung across the ceiling like vines and the scraps of machines that littered every surface. It looked like something out of a sci-fi novel. It looked like… something Steve had never seen before. Magic and science, rolled into one. Jesus, Tony had maths equations scribbled along the walls- there were papers and files littered across the desk the same way any other kid would have homework- all of it going completely over Steve’s head as he took it in, of course, but… Jeez, he could still appreciate it.

And of course, sat in the middle of all it- his legs crossed and head bowed down to some strange looking device perched in the middle of the floor, was Tony.

 

Steve needed to remember to breathe.

 

“Really- I personally would’ve said more along the lines of cyberpunk, but y’know, I guess I can see a bit of the retro aesthetic too,” Tony looked up at him- filthy from engine grease and smoke patches, hair falling into his face in messy strands, stripped down to a worn-out tank top and the jeans he’d been wearing last night. “Hi.”

Steve just stared. And in all fairness, who the fuck could blame him? It wasn’t _fair_ how Tony could be so achingly beautiful, no matter what environment you put him in. Dirt and grease and no sleep for however Goddamn long, and yet still Steve couldn’t take his eyes off him.

“Steve?” Tony asked, head tilting a little as one hand pushed his hair back, “you okay?”

He blinked once, and then nodded. “I- yeah,” he breathed, walking forward a few more paces until he was stood next to Tony’s side, “so this is where all the genius stuff happens, huh?”

Tony glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. “You could say so. Mostly just tinkering though- although I can admit, this one’s a little more high brow.”

Slowly, Steve sunk to his haunches next to Tony, glancing over to him and grinning. “And this is the one that may or may not blow up, yes?”

It looked like Tony was almost going to argue it, but in the end he just sighed, shoving Steve with a shoulder and sending him onto his ass. “Perhaps,” he muttered sulkily.

Steve glanced over at the machine, a frown creasing his face. He had no idea what it was- just looked like a pimped-up box to him, but he figured if it had the potential to go bang, it wasn’t as superficial as what Steve was seeing. He did note, after a second, that it seemed one of Tony’s fingers were pressed firmly into one side of the machine, and he hadn’t moved it since Steve had walked in. “I’m gonna go ahead and assume if you lift your hand, bad things will happen.”

Tony sighed loudly. “I will admit, I am not the best at planning ahead. I… may have dived in and tried to disengage the magnetic thrust _before_ finding my spanner, which, y’know, would’ve secured that little bolt in place just there,” he pointed into the side of the machine and Steve leaned in, trying to look at what Tony was seeing. Unfortunately, to him, it all just looked like wires and buttons- but he did see the loose little bolt from where Tony’s spare finger was pointing, and he nodded his understanding. “But yeah- I dug around and did all the hard stuff, but when it came to just securing it in place, I looked around and-“ he thrust a hand out to the desk, and Steve huffed in amusement when he spotted the little spanner just balancing on the edge of it. Out of reach.

“You should invest in a personal helper,” Steve said, getting to his feet with a sigh as Tony smiled at him, “or robots. You can make those, right? You created JARVIS,” he reached over and snagged the tool from the desk, before turning back around and tapping Tony over the back of the head with it.

Tony grunted, jerking his head and taking the spanner from Steve’s hand. Their fingers brushed for a second, and Steve felt the static zing all its way up his arm like it did every time they connected. “Robots, huh? Not a bad idea… or maybe I could just invest in one of those extending-claw things that cost like five dollars and are ultimately far less hassle than an entire robot.”

“Yeah, but I think you’d like a friend down here,” Steve sat back down next to him again, “just so you don’t have to spend all your time talking to yourself, y’know?”

“I don’t- I do _not_ talk to myself.”

Steve just gave him a long look, until Tony just bumped him again, sighing loudly. “I think you know me too well, Steve Rogers,” he declared, twisting the spanner sharply a couple of times before finally sitting back, letting go of what he’d been pressing down, “oh thank God, my finger was starting to cramp.”

“How long have you been holding onto that thing?”

“Eh- few hours? I distracted myself for a bit, but then I got bored of waiting around.”

Steve grinned. “Should’ve called earlier- I mean, I _have_ been awake since seven.”

Tony twisted around, looking at him in embarrassment. “Please forget they ever did that and ignore whatever they said, it is lies and they’re both getting their asses beat the next time I see them.”

Steve just shrugged, sitting back so that their shoulders were touching. “I thought it was sweet. Sort of. How did you meet them?”

Tony leaned back, hands bracing behind him as he stared at the machine and smiled in reminiscence. “Pep started out as an intern for Stark Industries. Met me whilst I was- uh- getting high in my dad’s office.” He grinned, shutting his eyes, “I thought she was going to rat me out at first, but after a second of staring at me, she just locked the door and then asked for a drag. Weed is the best bonding material, seriously- nothing like getting baked together to solidify a friendship.”

Steve looked at him in surprise. He couldn’t have imagined Pepper- with her immaculate dress and perfect ponytail and professional demeanor, sitting in Howard Stark’s office and getting high with Tony. “Really?”

Tony chuckled. “It was a bad day for the both of us. I’d been trying to make a statement, she’d been trying to relieve stress, it worked out. Everything just… went from there, really.”

He pictured it in his head- Tony lounging on the leather chair, Pepper with her heels off, lying on the floor, hair down. It certainly made an interesting image. “You get caught?”

“Not until later,” Tony waved a hand nonchalantly, “and it was only because he walked in and smelt it. By that time, I was long gone, and I’d wiped any evidence of Pepper being there from the scene of the crime at all, so-“

“You ever made any friends that _weren’t_ through substance abuse, by any chance?” Steve said, looking at him with a frown. There were no two ways about it- he hated the sort of things Tony did to himself on a seemingly regular basis, and how that appeared to be one of the main factors as to why all his buddies stuck around.

Tony stopped, and his face fell a little. Steve felt guilty almost immediately- it wasn’t really his place to judge what Tony-

“It wasn’t like… that,” the boy shook his head and looked down, frowning at a patch of black on the back of his hand, “she didn’t… she didn’t stick around _because_ of it. Hell, she stuck around despite it, if anything. One of the handful of people who like me when I’m sober, I guess. Thor, too- we met whilst we were both depressingly sober. And- and you! So I mean, it’s not… it’s not everyone. It’s not.”

Tony rubbed insistently at the stain, keeping his eyes fixed on it rather than Steve, who just remained silent by his side. Eventually, Steve just huffed and shuffled around a bit, until pulling out a handkerchief from his back pocket and then taking Tony’s hand. His touch was soft, and Tony finally stopped twitching, so he took that as a success. “Let me- you don’t exactly seem to be getting anywhere with it.”

“Who the fuck still carries handkerchiefs about their person nowadays?” Tony blurted, snapping his gaze up to Steve’s incredulously. When Steve just glared, Tony bit his lip and tried not to laugh. “Okay, sorry, yeah; go ahead, try your hardest, although I can’t even get that shit off in the shower, so I mean-“

“How did you and Thor become friends, then?” Steve cut off his rambling with a question, fingers curling around Tony’s hand and wiping at the insistent patch of grease with a gentle touch.

Tony paused for a moment, watching Steve work. “Uh, it’s sort of… complicated. His brother, Loki, had been missing for a few days, and I ended up picking him up at some rave downtown. Kinda messy, that one. Thor- Thor didn’t come into our circle because he liked the lifestyle, really; he came in because he needed a way to look out for his brother. But- y’know- once you’re in…” Tony shrugged a bit clearing his throat, “it’s, uh- a difficult system to get out of.”

Steve looked up at him, nearly bumping noses with the other boy when he realized how close they were. Tony just smiled- sad around the edges. “He was very grateful when I showed up with his little brother though. Took me inside and gave me some ice for the black eye Loki had inflicted upon me and everything. I don’t think there’s a malicious bone in that boy’s body.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Steve laughed with Tony, fingers skating up and down Tony’s hand, handkerchief mostly forgotten by that point, “although his brother sounds like a bit more of a handful.”

Tony’s face soured a little, and he shrugged. “He’s an asshole,” he admitted, eyes rolling upward with a sigh, “but he’s also pretty messed up. I don’t know- their parents are kinda distant; always away in Norway for their company, and Loki… I think he needed them. Thor does everything he can, ‘cause he’s incapable of knowing when to let things go, even when they hurt him- but it’s difficult. Kinda got dragged into it all along the way, and now he’s stuck there.”

There was a deep sort of ache in the center of Steve’s chest as he looked at Tony, and the resigned tiredness behind the boy’s eyes. Unknowing of what exactly to say, he just looked back down at Tony’s hand again, thumb brushing across the back of his palm. It seemed to relax Tony a little, because he breathed out softly and let his head drop a bit, until his cheek brushed the side of Steve’s hair.

“And what about you?” Steve asked casually, “how’d you end up there, then?”

Tony laughed. His shoulders moved up and down in a shrug, and Steve watched as his hand curled around Steve’s own, tugging a little when Tony suddenly jumped to his feet and took Steve up with him. “Does it matter?” He asked with a smile, “I’m not there now. I’m with you. Hey, actually, that reminds me: you eaten breakfast yet?”

Steve pulled a face, entirely aware of the sudden change in conversation- a typical avoidance tactic. But Tony obviously didn’t want to talk about it further, and Steve got that. Sometimes those sorts of things just stung a little too much. “Nah- too busy hauling ass over here.”

“Perfect,” Tony nodded, “I’m fucking starving. Let’s get brunch.” He let go of Steve’s hands and turned around, fingers fiddling with his hair, “just give me five minutes to clean up first. Although…” A small grin flashed across his face as he twisted his neck, looking back, “-before any of that-“

He turned on his heel again, walking back up to Steve and then raising his hands to cup Steve’s face.  And then, without a pause, Tony leaned in and kissed him soundly.

Steve gasped in surprise, hands rising to curl around Tony’s arms as he was pushed back a little by Tony’s weight against him. His mouth was warm, lips soft, and it felt like he was smiling as their teeth bumped slightly.  
Pushing back experimentally, Steve traced the lines of Tony’s lip with his tongue and leaned onto his tiptoes, head tilting to the side as he stepped as far into Tony’s space as he could manage. It pulled a soft moan from the back of Tony’s throat, which of course just made everything more frantic and heated in Steve’s quickly-deteriorating thought process. He couldn’t stop his hands sweeping across Tony’s shoulders, his back, curling around his hips and taking in as much of him as he could manage as Tony breathed in sharply and then pushed again, until the back of Steve’s legs hit the desk with a sharp thud.

Jesus, the thoughts that sprang into his mind at that moment… Steve would’ve been embarrassed if he wasn’t quite so desperate. As it was, he was a second away from grabbing Tony by the collar and dragging that stupid tank top right off his stupid chest-

 

Tony broke away.

 

“Hmm,” he breathed, lips brushing Steve’s messily for another second before he stood straight again, removing his mouth from where Steve could reach, “I should keep you down here with me all the time if this is what happens.”

“Go ahead,” Steve muttered, lurching forward and winding his hands around Tony’s neck in order to kiss him again, because that had suddenly jumped to his number one favourite thing in the entire world, and if he could have it his way he’d never have to stop doing it for the rest of his life.

Tony didn’t seem to mind either, because as soon as Steve’s mouth touched his, he melted right back in again, a soft hum of happiness vibrating in his throat that turned into a little giggle a moment later. “Steve, I have to- I have to get ready, Jesus-“

“We have the entire day,” Steve informed him, mouth turning to Tony’s ear as his hands settled comfortably on the taller boy’s shoulders. He kissed along Tony’s jaw lightly, unable to stop smiling at the sound of Tony’s laughter. He _loved_ Tony’s laughter.

“Brunch… brunch is not an all day event, Steven,” Tony grabbed his wrists and pulled them off, holding them in the air. His face was almost glowing, and it took him all of one second until he caved and leaned down for another short kiss. “God, you’re going to kill me, you know that? I hope you’re aware of that fact.”

Steve shut his eyes and nodded solemnly. “I apologize in advance. Now get down here and kiss me again.”

Tony laughed once more, before obediently leaning down, although dodging Steve’s head in order to snake his arms around his waist instead. With a yelp, Steve felt himself lifted off the floor and sat on the desk with another thump. It was only then that he felt Tony’s lips brush his forehead lightly, and Goddamn it, that shouldn’t have felt as good as it did.  
“I am going to take the fastest and coldest shower of my life,” Tony explained, voice a little hoarse as he looked down at Steve, “and you are going to stay right here, okay? Don’t go anywhere.”

Steve just nodded, feeling more than a little blissed-out as Tony kissed him lightly on the nose and then backed up, tripping clumsily over a bunch of stray wires as he went. He looked down and kicked them absently, blushing a little as he turned back to Steve. “I am actually cool, you know,” he stated with a wave of his hand, “people don’t just think that for no reason. I am. I am totally… suave and charming and-“

“You’re an idiot,” Steve leaned forward and swung his legs on the desk, “go have your shower.”

Tony paused for a moment, before jerking to life with a nod and a finger-point in Steve’s direction. “Right! Yes, because I was… doing that, yes, okay, going-“ he started walking back again, not bothering to turn around in favor of keeping his gaze fixed on Steve. The amazed look of disbelief was still flitting around in his eyes as he watched Steve grin back at him.

Eventually he felt his way over to the stairs and had to turn around, practically sprinting up them in his haste. Steve just watched him, laughing quietly into the now-empty room.

 _Wow_ , he thought, a finger going up to touch his lip- _not a dream then._

He could still feel his heart beating in his ears, and his body felt like it was alive with electricity. He wondered how long that feeling would last. Probably a very long time- the thought of ever… of ever getting used to something like that was just absurd, really.

Wow. Was this a relationship, then? Is that what they were calling it? Was Tony Steve’s boyfriend?

 

Fuck, Steve had a maybe-probably-boyfriend. Tony was his maybe-probably boyfreind.  
Sure couldn’t have predicted _that_ when he’d first laid his eyes on the boy over the parking lot on his first day of school.

 

“Mr. Rogers?” Came a quiet voice from beside him, and Steve promptly did a massive and violent spasm on the desk, scattering a bunch of papers as he shifted.

“FUCK!” He yelled, head turning in search of the voice before the tone registered in the back of his mind and he frowned, “wait- JARVIS, is that you?”

“Indeed Mr. Rogers, apologies for the fright,” came the disembodied voice, and Steve squinted around, looking for a computer like the one in Tony’s room until JARVIS added: “I’m not attached to one hard-drive or computer down here. Unlike in Sir’s room, I operate through an external system running through the whole basement. Sir finds it especially beneficial when working.”

Steve blinked once, trying to make sense of the words. “Uhh- okay then. It’s nice to, uhm, talk to you again. That’s- that’s what this is, right? I mean I’d assume so, but I don’t know, I don’t really _do_ robot-stuff, it might be different-“

“We are indeed talking, Mr. Rogers,” the AI actually sounded amused, which was pretty amazing, really, “there is no other explanation for the exchange of words across one intelligent being to another.”

“Ha ha,” Steve muttered, palming his forehead and then jumping down off the desk to collect the bunches of papers that had scattered everywhere, “I’m getting sassed by a fucking robot, Jesus Christ, this wasn’t what I signed up for-“

“I’m afraid Sir and I come as a package deal, Mr Rogers,” the AI replied rather snippily, and Steve chuckled a little as he shuffled the papers in his hands and straightened them up, “which, may I also add, means that I too, would be rather offended on his behalf if something- or perhaps I should say some _one_ \- were to wrong him.”

Steve paused, head jerking up a little in curiosity. “…Am I being threatened by an artificial intelligence?”

“Let’s just say Sir watched terminator a few nights ago and I got some useful ideas.”

Steve just blinked a few times, until a second later JARVIS finished: “Ah- Sir has also not quite completed my personality parameters yet. That was a joke, Mr Rogers. I apologize. Sir is still in the process of smoothing out any bugs.”

He stood straight, placing the papers back on the desk and trying not to look at the mathematics scribbled over them for too long, unless he fancied a melted brain. He couldn’t help but grin a little, looking to the ceiling for lack of anywhere else to pin JARVIS to. “I get the feeling that apology isn’t as genuine as it sounded.”

There was a short pause, and then JARVIS answered. “It is my duty to protect and obey my creator. He has warned me not to, and I quote, ‘freak you out before he even has a chance to get used to the crazy shit that goes on around here’, and so I am trying my best to diffuse the situation I just created. Again, apologies. My social codes are not as developed as they should be, seeing as Sir does not usually let me interact with others.”

Steve huffed a little, jumping back up onto the desk. “Well,” he said evenly, leaning back a little, “at least you’re honest. My social codes aren’t exactly the best either, so I wouldn’t worry too much. And, uh, if I _do_ end up turning into an asshole who hurts Tony on purpose for whatever reason, I give you permission to go full terminator on me.”

He waited as JARVIS remained silent for a few seconds. A part of Steve took the time out to admire Tony’s genius, and the fact that he’d managed to create what was definitely the most human robot Steve had ever heard before. It was truly incredible- he couldn’t even believe it, mostly. It felt like talking to a real person, but this… it was just numbers and codes.

 

God, Tony was _seventeen_. He should be at some high-brow school for geniuses, or making his name out in the science world or whatever the fuck, not stuck in some average public school getting high every other week and with no other reputation other than the fact that he was easy. It just didn’t seem fair.

Tony could be so much more.

 

 “You know,” JARVIS said eventually, making Steve jerk out of his own thoughts, “I may be an artificial intelligence, but I do think I actually like you.”

“Does that come as a surprise?”

“I have never communicated with other humans except for Howard Stark- so yes, amicability toward those who are not Sir is… new protocol,” JARVIS replied evenly, whilst Steve just frowned and crossed his legs on the desk. He wondered for the millionth time about the man who raised Tony- wondered how much he’d end up hating him on sight. Some people hid their nastiness well; with smooth talk and polite facades, but others didn’t even bother hiding it. He wondered what sort of asshole Howard would be.

“Mr. Rogers,” and suddenly JARVIS’s voice was quiet, more serious, and Steve turned back to the ceiling immediately, “a word of advice, if I may?”

“Knock yourself out,” he replied warily, wondering what it was the AI was about to impart on him.

There was another short pause- one that sounded almost hesitant, if disembodied voices were capable of that. “Please be careful around Howard Stark. You’re probably not aware of quite how much influence that man has. There is not a lot he is unable to get away with, and Sir has often faced the full effects of that. He is putting an awful lot of trust into you, simply letting you in here. I implore you not to let him down.”

There was that ache, back in his heart again. He realized with a pang that there was still so much about Tony that he didn’t know. So much that he really _needed_ to know. And damn, JARVIS was right- he was down here, looking at Tony’s genius in action when barely anyone else even knew he was even smart- it was one hell of a telling gesture, when he thought about it.

Tony really did trust him. Despite… everything that had happened in his life, Tony had still chosen to let him in.

And more than anything, Steve wanted to make it worth it. To help him, whatever way he could. Steve just wasn’t sure how- although when it came down to it, he knew that all he’d really need to do was make sure to get in the way whenever Howard Stark got pissed off, and it’d do the job pretty nicely. If it meant he didn’t have to glance at bruises or cuts and wonder where they came from, he’d do it. In a heartbeat.

“I won’t,” Steve promised honestly, because it sounded like the AI cared about Tony just as much as Rhodey did, going from the way they both swung between mildly threatening and deeply imploring in attempts to defend Tony from the threats Steve potentially posed,  “I swear. He deserves people who care about him. And I want to be one of those people. I mean, hell, I’m pretty much in lo-“

 

“-Fuck, I’m back, you haven’t moved have you? Oh good, okay, so it wasn’t a dream-“ Steve shut his mouth rapidly as he swung his head over to the entrance, watching Tony hurtle down the stairs in faded grey jeans and-

Well. He had obviously been in a hurry to get back down to the basement, because he was holding his fucking shirt in his hands and leaving his bare midsection right on display. Steve genuinely didn't think it was purposeful- he was only wearing one sock, too, and his belt was hanging unclipped around his waist. He'd probably just been rushing.

  
Of course, intentional or not, Steve was pretty sure he'd never felt his mouth go dry more rapidly in his entire life anyway.   
Lust hit him faster and more brutally than a fucking freight train. He felt his fingers clench tightly around the edge of the desk and his heartrate just skyrocket- which really had to be unhealthy, but he didn't even care.  
Fuck, Tony was going to give him a heart attack and he'd probably die happy as long it meant he could just keep looking at him without a shirt on. Wow. He was... he was fucking gorgeous- toned muscle and strong arms and tanned skin that contrasted with each shadow and dip of his body. Artistically, Steve could admire the almost exact symmetry about him, the exquisite complimenting colors, the perfect proportion of everything. He hadn't thought like that about another person in months and months, but Tony... he was just too beautiful to ignore.

Then again, on a purely primal level, Steve was just desperate to get his hands on that and see what the rest of him looked like. There was no doubt in his mind that Tony would look gorgeous underneath him, fingers grasping at the sheets desperately and eyes clenched shut as he gasped-

 

Unfortunately, because Good things never lasted, Tony shoved the shirt over his neck a second later and pulled it down, hiding the expanse of lean muscle and beautiful skin under a sharp red t-shirt that hung gorgeously around his shoulders. His hair was wet, sticking to his forehead and making little dark patches of water appear on the material as soon as it covered him. Surprise surprise, Steve was once again rendered speechless- Tony looked fucking _good_ in red, alright, and Steve was only human.

“Were you talking to someone?” Tony asked a moment later, before his eyes narrowed. “JARVIS? What were you gossiping to Steve about? They better have been good things.”

“Merely testing out the new social performance upgrades you fitted me with last night,” the AI replied calmly, all traces of worry gone from his voice. Steve… well, Steve was too busy recovering from the initial shock of catching that brief flash of smooth chest and then dealing with the subsequent raging hard-on to say anything even remotely helpful, and so in the end Tony just sighed and nodded, apparently accepting it.

“And on a scale of one to ten, how successful do you think it was?” He wandered forward, eyes straight back to where they had been five minutes ago- on Steve.

“He threatened to turn into a version of Skynet if I wronged you,” Steve blurted just as Tony reached him, and then watched in part guilt, part amusement as Tony’s smile dropped and his eyebrows rocketed.

“He did _what_?”

“May I add,” JARVIS said hurriedly, and Steve got the feeling if he’d had eyes, Steve would be getting a death-stare off him right about now,  “that it was simply one of those ‘good-natured ribbings’; like what we had discussed earlier this morning-“

“Oh my God, Steve, I am so sorry everything associated with me is threatening you today,” Tony shook his head and held his head in between his hands, “he won’t- I swear he doesn’t mean that, he’s just what we would consider a very socially awkward teenager right now, still in the really early stages of development, buggy, y’know-“

“Tony, relax,” Steve laughed, taking Tony’s wrists and tugging him in closer until he was slotted between Steve’s legs, “it’s fine. I think it’s sweet that your robot is willing to break Asimov’s first law for you. Slightly terrifying, but the sentiment is touching.”

“He won’t hurt you, really, he’s not even capable, he’s trapped in this house for now and I would never even let him in the first place, please don’t freak out- Jesus Christ JARVIS we _talked about this shit!”_

Steve just laughed harder, unable to hold himself back at the way Tony was hissing in annoyance at some corner of the room like JARVIS was stood there himself. His head dropped into Tony’s shoulder comfortingly, and he felt Tony’s hand curl protectively against the back of his neck almost subconsciously as he continued to argue with his own AI.

“Sir, if I may remind you of the concepts we went through about jokes and humor when initiating conversation-“

“Yes, like stupid knock-knock jokes or sarcastic comments, not _terminator death threats!_ God, JARVIS, do you want homeland security on our fucking asses?”

“You programmed dark humor into my database approximately five months and seventeen days ago-“

“Yes, but I also programmed you to answer all my emails with links to Rick Astley; you’re a learning program J, you have to decide what and what is not appropriate for guests who have never even seen-“

“Tony I swear, it’s fine,” Steve patted him on the chest and looked up, eyes sparkling in amusement at Tony’s despairing face, “no one is calling homeland security. JARVIS apologized. He even says he likes me, so I’m counting this as a success. Now can we go and buy food?”

Tony huffed sulkily, still glaring at the corner. “JARVIS is a menace and I’m going to detox his code tonight,” he wagged a finger in the air before turning to Steve, face softening automatically, “but I agree. We should go eat.”

Steve nodded slowly, eyes automatically falling shut as Tony leaned in and kissed him again, seemingly unable to resist. Although sat on the desk, Tony was still at least a head taller- and really, that shouldn’t have been hot. It shouldn’t. But everything Tony embodied suddenly just seemed utterly irresistible, and Steve couldn’t stop himself from groaning a little as Tony braced his hands against either side of Steve’s thighs and leaned forward, pushing Steve back further and forcing him to wind his hands around Tony’s shoulders in order to keep himself balanced.

Steve would happily spend the rest of his life right where he was: hands and mouth and body on Tony’s, learning every inch of his skin.

“You have no idea,” Tony breathed against him, eyes shut- and Steve watched the way his shoulders were bunched up, tight with tension and heat, “ _no_ idea what effect you have on me- just sat there on my stupid desk, talking with my stupid robot, looking so _fucking_ beautiful-“

He trailed off, ducking his head lower to kiss bitingly against Steve’s throat, laced with the sting of teeth that sent shivers running down his spine. He leaned his head back and tried to think of something to say- _‘fuck breakfast, let’s just stay here and keep doing this, also your bed was nice last time I visited and I’d like to know what you look like in it, preferably naked’-_

Tony pulled away before he could even voice any of that, eyes still shut and breathing heavy as he knocked his forehead against Steve’s temple. “Gonna drive me mad,” he muttered with a fond shake of his head.

And then he’d left Steve’s space as quickly as he’d stepped into it, hand still curled around Steve’s as he tugged him off the desk. “Food,” he declared with a nod, tongue poking out just for a moment in order to trace the taste of Steve’s mouth on his lips.

Steve tried to remember what words were, and how exactly he was supposed to be using them. “Mmm,” was the diplomatic answer he came up with in the end, “I… food.”

Tony just laughed, pulling them both forward. “Eloquent."

“Not my fault you’re a massive fucking tease,” Steve muttered grumpily, falling into step beside Tony, “it’s not easy to think when you’ve just been kissed like that.”

“ _I’m_ managing pretty well.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve had experience.”

Tony shot him a look from the side, mouth turning upward as his fingers squeezed gently around Steve’s. “Oh sweetheart, I ain’t ever had a kiss like _that_ before, let me tell you.”

See, one day Steve would work out how to respond to things like that. He knew Tony used nicknames for everyone, but it still sent something short-circuiting in his head whenever he heard it directed his way. Like the first time they’d spoken outside the principal’s office and Steve had almost fallen into the door in response.

When he did nothing other than open and shut his mouth a few times, Tony chuckled again. Steve looked away, silently cursing himself. “God, I gotta get better at this,” he mumbled, feeling his cheeks heat up as they always ended up doing around Tony.

He carried on for a few more steps until he felt Tony twist around, stepping in front of him and cutting him off. He bumped into the other boy’s chest in surprise and looked up just in time to meet Tony’s mouth in the middle as he leaned down, capturing him in a short, sharp kiss.

Which, of course, sent his mind reeling. Again.

“Considering I am struggling to keep my hands off you for more than 1 minute periods, I’m saying you’re doing pretty well so far,” Tony interspersed each block of words with short kisses that Steve just returned gladly, losing himself to the sensations once more.

 Our of nowhere, Rhodey’s words from earlier suddenly echoed in his ears: _‘he’s crazy about you’, ‘I’ve never seen him this happy before'  
__‘please be kind’._

It hit him, just how much this whole thing meant. Tony, who never stuck around with people long enough to let them in. Who smoked and drank and made bad life choices every other week to apparently rebel against a father who even his own AI hated. Who hid everything about himself under a careless smile and dark sunglasses and never, ever admitted to his weaknesses.

That boy- that stubborn mess of a boy- was kissing Steve softly, smile still lingering around his mouth and damp hair from a speedy shower still tickling Steve’s cheek. It was hard to believe, really. Even harder to think that it was _Steve_ who got this, who was lucky enough to see Tony Stark for who he really was: not the carefree asshole with too much money and a half-formed deathwish- but a clumsy, brilliant inventor with a heart of gold and a smile that made Steve want to do outrageous things in order to keep it there.

 

And, of course- perfect timing as always- right as he was about to stick his tongue in Tony’s mouth and try to persuade him to discard the idea of going anywhere, his stomach decided to give a very loud and very insistent rumble.

Which was just brilliant.

 

Tony paused, breaking off and pulling away just a fraction. His eyes fluttered open and he looked down at Steve for all of one second before breaking out into a loud snorting laughter, dropping his head onto Steve’s shoulder as he giggled like a five-year-old.

“It’s not that funny,” Steve muttered moodily, whilst Tony just nodded against his shoulder.

“It really is. Bit of a mood-killer, but I think you’ve made the message clear enough. How did you say it earlier- _‘mmf. I… food.’_ , wasn’t it? We should listen to your advice-“

“Or we could just stay here, it’s fine, my stomach is a liar and I think-“

“Steve,” Tony said with a roll of his eyes, hands entwining with Steve’s once more, “I really don’t think it’s good practice to let your boyfriend starve on the first date. Plus the staff at IHOP love me and so the pancakes will probably be even bigger than u-“

“Is that what we are, then?” Steve blurted before his brain-to-mouth filter could kick in and stop him. He saw Tony’s brow crease and hurried to expand: “I mean… you called me- and I was just wondering if that’s… you know. A Thing now. Definitely.”

Oh God. Oh God, why did he ever talk? At all? What good ever came from him saying things-

“What, boyfriends?” Tony asked, eyes beginning to get a little wider with every confused blink, “I… yeah, that’s what I was… oh, do you- is that  _not_ what you were… oh, oh fuck, I thought-“

“NO!” Steve lurched forward and caught Tony’s hand before he could back away any further, shaking his head wildly, “no, that is not what I meant at all. No. No, I want- I want to be in a relationship with you Tony, I swear, a proper one and everything, I was just… I wanted to check we were on the same page,” he stumbled over his words hurriedly, internally cursing himself for wording it so badly.  
Fuck, he was a fucking idiot.

Tony’s brief moment of panic passed slowly, and the wide eyes turned to rolling ones as he sighed and gave Steve a gentle shove. “Fuck, Rogers, I thought I’d just read the entirety of the last 24 hours completely wrong, don’t do that shit to me, I’m old, I’ve got a bad heart-“

Steve shoved him back, cheeks burning with embarrassment as he looked at the floor. “Buddy, you don’t know the meaning of a bad heart, you shush, I was just… trying to communicate. That’s what people in healthy relationships do, right? So yeah!”

Tony was just laughing at him again, and Steve had to laugh alongside him, really, because there was no way he could just keep a straight face when Tony looked like that- it was impossible. He rolled his eyes and looked away, but knew that Tony had seen the redness covering his cheeks. It was impossible to ignore, really, Goddamned Irish complexion-

He stilled when Tony’s hand moved to cup around his face, a thumb brushing over the warmth of his cheek. “I really do love that blush,” he said quietly, head cocking to the side a little like he always did when he analyzed Steve. He just let himself watch- the way Tony’s eyes flicked minutely over each area of his face, how his lip twitched in amusement. There was a second of silence, and then Tony dropped his hand, blinking out of the little haze he’d just found himself caught in. “Okay. Seriously. Food. Now.”

“I really think-“

“Steve Rogers, you better walk that ass out of the door in the next ten seconds or I am going to give you my saddest, most pained looking face and _you_ are going to have to stand there and look at it.”

Tony folded his arms in front of him. Steve just glared stubbornly.  “It might not be _that_ pained-“

“Would you like to find out?”

And honestly, no, Steve didn’t- he had the feeling those huge blue eyes could tear Steve’s entire heart out if used for evil purposes. So in the end, he just huffed loudly and marched past Tony, chin high and resolutely facing the stairs, rather than Tony’s giggling face. “Let’s go then, ass.”

Behind him, he heard Tony’s footsteps as they shuffled into step with him. “I can’t believe we’ve been dating for less than a day and you’re already hurling insults at me. How upsetting.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re hungry, so it’s probably making you cranky. Now go sit on my bike and wait, I need to grab a jacket.”

Steve huffed again as Tony swept past him, stopping to press a kiss into his cheek before running off with another laugh. Steve couldn’t even find it in himself to remain sulky- too giddy from the thrill of everything. Of having Tony kiss him and put his hands in his hair and run his teeth along his throat- of having Tony there, right in front of him, for no one _but_ him. It was enough to make him want to run up to the rooftops and yell at anyone who would listen.

_I’ve got Tony Stark, and he’s perfect and beautiful and all mine._

“You’re not moving!” Tony called out from down the corridor, and Steve jumped as he looked up in surprise, “I can’t hear your feet, Rogers!”

He rolled his eyes, making three obvious banging noises on the floorboards before beginning to wander back the way he’d come through. Tony was off somewhere down another hall, maybe heading to the living room or God-knows-where in that huge ass house, but Steve could still hear him shuffling about, so obviously he was still nearby. 

 

For a brief second, he found himself glancing up. Past the ceiling, past the sky that separated them.  
He knew she was looking down at him with a fond little smile and a knowing eyebrow-wiggle that had always had Steve rolling his eyes and telling her to cut it out. His mom would’ve been ecstatic about this. Like he said- she’d _always_ found ways to be happy, no matter what the circumstance.  
And this… there was a lot to be happy about, here.

 

“Steve?”

He looked down just as Tony walked back into the main corridor, shoving his arm through the sleeve of his standard leather jacket. Again, Steve briefly cursed the unfairness of the world, because Tony’s hair hadn’t been touched since coming out of the shower and yet it seemed to have dried perfectly, as always. Maybe he was just biased, though- it was difficult to tell these days.

“Yeah yeah,” he waved a hand and wandered further forward, meeting Tony by the huge door, “after you then.”

Tony looked down at him and winked, popping his collar before sauntering out. “Such the gentlemen, Steven, how absolutely delightful.”

Steve just rolled his eyes and tried not to smile.

Of course, he failed.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I think I was always gonna end up there, in the end.”

 

 

Steve looked up from Tony’s shoulder slowly, brow creasing a little. They were sat on the couch back at Steve’s, the whole day having been spent wandering around New York together until eventually Steve had managed to persuade Tony to come over and just relax with him and some movies at home. They’d been sprawled on the couch for little over an hour now, watching reruns of How I Met Your Mother and throwing various projectiles at any misguided friend who attempted to join them. It was, unsurprisingly, the warmest sort of feeling in the world- although Tony had apparently decided that it was time to start talking again, so Steve was more than fine with doing that too.

“What?” He asked drowsily, voice a little croaky from disuse.

Tony bit his lip a bit, looking back to the TV. His fingers fiddled absently with the hairs at the back of Steve’s neck.

“You asked,” he said in the end, churning out each word slowly as if he was putting thought into each syllable, “earlier this morning, why I hung out with all those assholes in my year. I think, really, that it was sort of decided for me from the very beginning.”

Steve didn’t say anything, but he put his head back down on Tony’s shoulder and found his hand in the half-darkness. Tony held on a little tighter than usual.

“I mean,” he continued with a small shrug, “I guess that’s a pretty defeatist way of looking at things. And if I’d wanted to, I could have changed. But, y’know… it was easier to fall into this sort of lifestyle than it was to pull out of it, I suppose. And hey- I was a Stark- it’s in the blood, that’s what everyone always told me.”

He huffed a little, head leaning back against the cushions of the couch. “God, I don’t know. I’d been doing okay in the beginning- I hadn’t used to go to this highschool, y’know. Went to a fancy place for ‘gifted kids’ and everything. I got into MIT by the time I was fourteen, did you know that? That’s where I met Rhodey, actually.”

Steve blinked a few times. MIT was… “wait, you were in _college_ at fourteen?”

Tony nodded. “It was going good. I was… okay, I did what every kid my age would’ve done in that situation and I participated in a bit of stupid stuff, but at that point I wasn’t-“ Steve heard as his voice wavered suddenly, and underneath his fingers, he could feel Tony’s heartbeat stutter.

“She was still alive,” Tony whispered, eyes shutting for a second as he breathed in, “they both were, and they both visited when they could. Kept me mostly under control, I guess.”

Tony stopped again, and Steve knew what was coming next. The fall from grace- the descent into madness that inevitably came whenever you lost someone. He swallowed heavily and tilted his head, kissing Tony’s shoulder in the best offer of support he could manage. There was no way to make this any easier except showing he was there, really.

“Then… well, you know what happened,” Tony finally looked away from the spot on the wall, only to move it down to his lap. “And- and it all sort of went downhill from there, really. I… I lost it. Howard pulled me over at the funeral and told me that I was the one the media were going to be focusing on next, so I needed to live up to the Stark name and do well at MIT. I promptly got myself kicked the fuck out.” He jerked a little, then used his free hand to pull back the hairs behind his ear. Steve looked up curiously, heart steadily sinking at the sight of the lightning-cracked scars that were running just above the hairline, faded with age, but still visible. “That’s the product of _that_ particular conversation. My fault- should’ve remembered it doesn’t matter how far away you’re stood, it’s useless if he’s got something in his hand. Nice tumbler of whiskey thrown at the wall just here,” Tony circled the space an inch or two away from his head, and Steve just stared in horror. He realized his knuckles had turned white against Tony’s hand.

“I don’t remember my reasons at the time,” Tony carried on after however many moments of silence- maybe a few, for all Steve knew, he’d lost track of everything other than Tony’s words a while ago. “Maybe I was trying to piss Howard off as much as possible. Maybe I wanted to push myself as far away from my family name as possible, seeing as the only living relative left in it was someone who’d never even loved me. Maybe I was just grieving.” He sighed gently, and Steve watched the fingers of his left hand twitch absently toward his pocket- the craving to smoke apparently hitting him in automatic response to talking about this stuff.  
“But anyway- whatever reason it was, I told myself I wasn’t going to be the same person I had been before Mom and Jarvis had died. There wasn’t any point: they were the only ones who had given a shit about that kid, so he might as well have just died right alongside them. And then… everything just got steadily worse, I suppose. Ty got back in touch with me- we’d been friends as kids- and he was nice enough, seemed to like me, and… yeah. He got me into that scene, and I thought it was fun. Nice not to feel things beyond the surface, you know? I’d been sick of feeling things. Sick of being told what a disgrace I was by my father. God, I was just sick of my own head, and how it never shut up, not for a _single damn second-“_

Tony breathed in sharply, the hand not holding onto Steve’s clenching impossibly tight against his side. Steve made a soothing noise in the back of his throat and leaned forward, taking the balled up fist and trying to smooth it out before he ended up straining something. Or punching something.

Tony just shut his eyes again, head shaking a little as Steve slowly uncurled his hands for him. “You don’t have to tell me if it’s hurting too much,” Steve told him quietly, bringing the other boy’s fingers up to his mouth and kissing them lightly.

He watched Tony’s eyes open, staring at him so intensely, like the answer to the universe lay somewhere in his eyes. It was also such an immense feeling, when Tony looked at him like that.

“You should know,” was all Tony said in the end, head shaking a little, “you deserve that much. Need to know what you’re getting yourself into, after all- it’s only fair.”

Steve looked at him a second more, before nodding once and then moving back to his place against Tony’s shoulder, both hands now curled around eachother. Tony didn’t speak again for a while, eyes moving noncommittedly along with the images that flashed up on the TV in front of them for a few extra moments until he cleared his throat again.

“There’s really not much else to say. What you’re looking at now is just three years of the same old shit. Think Howard just gave up on me after a while, which isn’t so bad. He doesn’t scream so much any more- just ignores me. I go to public school like everyone else and pretend I don’t see equations everywhere I look, and when the ideas get too loud, I go to the nearest party and get a hit in whatever form I can find it in. Usually a bit of Ket does the trick, but hey, I’m not really fussy as to what drug I use to get high. Sometimes sex does the same thing. When I’m feeling _really_ adventurous, I’ll get myself arrested. Finding a thrill wherever you can, right?” He shrugged, picking at a seam on his jeans. “It’s not really living. It’s just temporarily stopping me from dying, I guess. But it works, and I don’t- well, I _didn’t_ have anything else to really bother with, before.”

Steve’s breath paused, and he lifted his head up from Tony’s shoulder questioningly. When Tony looked down at him, there was the tiniest little smile back on his face. “Oh, don’t look at me like you’ve no idea what I’m talking about Steve, you dramatic little-“

Steve cut him off as he jumped forward, wrapped his arms around Tony’s shoulders and pulled him into a fierce hug. He could feel the painful sting behind his eyes, so he buried his head in Tony’s shoulder and clenched them shut, feeling Tony as his own arms wrapped slightly desperately around Steve’s waist and then pulled him closer.

They stayed there for a while; Steve rocking them back and forth as his fingers stroked softly through Tony’s hair. It was difficult to even contemplate- dealing with the loss of not one, but _two_ loved ones, and then being left with only chaos to help you through it.  
Steve wouldn’t have made it out the other end, that was for sure.

“I’m broken, Steve,” Tony whispered into his neck, even when Steve just shook his head violently, “and not in a way I’m sure can be fixed. You have to… being with you, being around you- it’s selfish, and I’m gonna hurt you, I know I am-“

“Please don’t say things like that, Tony,” Steve cut in quietly, pursing his lips tight and trying to keep himself steady, “please don’t- don’t ever try and push me away because you think I deserve better or something, okay? I don’t _want_ better. I want you. Don’t care if you’re a bit broken- so am I. It’s how we found each other.”

He felt Tony’s smile, and it encouraged him to continue. Pulling away from Tony, he wrapped his hand tight around the other boy’s neck and pressed their foreheads together, eyes falling shut as he focused on just trying to breathe. Everything with Tony, everything about him- it was racing, and it was intense. Terrifying. Amazing.

“I never thought I’d be able to feel things again after my mom passed away,” he murmured, thumb brushing delicately across the back of Tony's ear, feeling the raised edges of the small scars there, “not properly, anyway. I felt like I was doing everything on autopilot. She’d gone, and I couldn’t find much in anything after that. Things just sort of existed around me.”

He heard his name breathed out on Tony’s mouth, but pushed ahead fearlessly, kissing Tony softly before continuing. “Then on my first day at school, I see you, and something just… happens. I can’t describe it. But whenever I’m looking at you, or talking with you, or you’re kissing me- I just remember how it feels to… to feel. More than just on the surface. It’s something I genuinely didn’t think I’d be able to do again; but of course, you come along and suddenly I’m acting like a thirteen-year-old with her first crush. It’s mostly just embarrassing, but it’s also kinda nice, I suppose,” Steve laughed a bit, and their noses brushed as Tony shook his head and grinned back, tired and rough and perfect.

Tony _was_ perfect. To him, anyway. Even in all the ways he so obviously wasn’t.

He kept watching as Tony slowly slid his hand up to Steve’s face, fingers brushing across his lip in a feather-light caress that was barely even there at all.  
“Bellissimo,” he breathed almost imperceptibly, eyes fixed on where his fingers were tracing, hardly even aware he was doing it, “così perfetta.” And Steve wasn’t fluent, but he knew a compliment when he saw it, and he smiled softly in response. Tony trailed his hand all the way down Steve’s neck, landing square on his chest, right over his heart.

“I’m gonna be so good to you, Steve,” he promised softly, nodding once and then swallowing, “I swear to you.”  
  
Steve remained silent, placing his hand on Tony’s and locking their fingers together in acknowledgment. It was always hard to talk about things in the way they seemed to- but he was just grateful Tony had told him at all. It meant a hell of a lot. Especially when that sort of stuff was what put Tony’s life in danger- Jesus, he could still barely believe the stories about his dad-  

“Don’t frown at me,” Tony huffed out a laugh and flicked gently at the crease that had formed in Steve’s brow, “I was being super nice then and everything-“ 

“You come here whenever there’s even a chance that your dad’s gonna- gonna do something, okay?” He whispered before Tony could finish, feeling his heart speed up a few paces as he thought about what kind of mess Tony lived in- a house so empty and quiet he’d created another voice out of ones and zeroes just so he could drown out the feeling of being so desperately alone, a father who threw glass at him, good _God_ - 

“Steve,” Tony shut his eyes, sounding weary, “it’s not that simple-“

“It really is.”

“Steve, believe me, it _isn’t_ ,” Tony shook his head sharply, voice getting harder, “it’s not… it’s just complicated. But this is what I’ve got, so I just have to deal. It’s not that bad, anyway. I’m gonna be out of there soon, and once I am-“ something flashed behind his eyes. Something sharp and vindictive in a way Steve hadn’t ever seen before. “- I am going to burn my father and everything he ever built to the ground. And then I’ll salt the earth.”

It was probably an inappropriate moment to feel the sharp sense of pride on Tony’s behalf- but Steve did anyway. They were too young, too naive to care about anything other than what was in front of them, and Steve was just fine with that. Howard Stark could burn, and Steve would stand at Tony’s side and cheer him through it the entire time if Tony let him. 

“Good,” he answered swiftly, “you’re cleverer than he’ll ever be, anyway. If anyone can do it, it's you.” 

“You’ve never even met him, Steve.” 

“Well, a certain idiot once told me that you don’t need to _know_ someone to know them,” Steve told him wisely, causing a sudden burst of laughter from Tony as he remembered his own words. 

“Okay, touché,” Tony rolled his eyes and then kicked back further into the couch, taking Steve with him until he was lying on top of Tony’s chest, “I’ll admit defeat on that one. I think, though, that for now we should just watch the TV and try and recuperate from that intense emotional conversation we just had. I can only take so many feelings before I require 49 hours of isolation –“

 Steve smacked him lightly on the chest and sighed, sinking down into his shoulder and turning to face the TV. Tony continued to mutter for a few more seconds before he finally quietened as well, the only sounds coming from him being the sound of his heartbeat against Steve’s ear. His arm was a grounding weight around his back.  

Steve traced absent-minded patterns against Tony’s bare arm as they let the time slip by them once more. He really loved the colors that made up Tony- the warm hues of his skin and the sharp intensity of his eyes. He would be a beautiful subject to draw. No way Steve would be able to do him justice, but… he might try. Someday.  

 

 “I’m gonna be good for you too, you know,” he mumbled sleepily, pressing his lips into Tony’s shoulder, “promise.” 

Underneath him, Tony grinned. “Counting on it.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mild Warning I guess for underage sex, depending on what State you're in? Idk Tony is 17 and Steve's 16, take it as u will and enjoy!

Peggy's foot was in his face barely a moment after he'd made himself comfortable on the couch, and it prompted an automatic sigh in response. Unfortunately, by this point in their friendship that sort of behavior was normal, and so he just looked to the ceiling in defeat. "Fuck off, Peggy, my chest is not a footrest."

Him, Peggy and Bucky were all over at her place, having just come back from picking her up from yet another failed date. Apparently she was trying to play the field, and she was after a man for the end of the semester- but at the standard of dates she was picking up, this was beginning to seem unlikely.

"Fuck off, Steve, I'm moping," she replied, her voice muffled by the couch cushions. Steve tried to dislodge her, but she was unfairly strong and it was mostly a failed endeavor. The most he managed to escape was one foot, but the other remained firmly perched. 

"It's not my fault you can't land a date for shit."

"It  _is_  your fault. It's all your fault that boys are universally terrible, actually- I'm blaming  _you_ , Steve Rogers, personally for this." She groaned and turned around, facing the ceiling just as Bucky pushed open the door with a tray of snacks. Mainly icecream. She glared at him when he smiled. "You know, I'm starting to get sick of you, Barnes," she declared sulkily.

He kissed her forehead and then tossed a tub of icecream her way, which she plucked from the air easily. "It comes with the territory," he admitted with a shrug.

Peggy scowled, pointing a finger. "You need to stop posting pictures of your stupid girlfriend online. You're making  _me_  want to be in a relationship with her, and believe me, you don't want me setting my mind on that. It's already being considered, you know."

Bucky's face fell, and he turned to her quickly. "Please don't steal my girlfriend away from me," he whined, getting to his knees in front of her and then just batting Steve away when his foot poked at his shoulder.

She observed him for a moment, before huffing and looking away. "Then find me a decent man in this stupid world. Can you believe I had to sit there and try not to stab myself with a fork for an hour and a half whilst that dimwit mansplained  _football_  to me?  _Football."_

Bucky just laughed, shaking his head and patting her on the shoulder. "Seeing as I'm probably gonna be pretty unlucky with the search for a man worthy of Peggy Carter, I'll just have to cut down on my spams of Nat's feet, I guess. I could probably do that. And hey, at least there's only one of me doing it! Steve's keepin' it private, so you don't even have to worry about him."

Steve smiled fondly, until Peggy shot him a look that was partly curiosity, part pity. "Yeah, it's only 'cause his boyfriend's not out yet- but just give it a few months and he'll be screaming it off the damn rooftops, you know what Steve's like."

He frowned. "Uh- Tony's out. At least, I'm pretty sure he is."

Yeah, he figured- they held hands at school. Tony kissed him on the forehead before he left sometimes. He didn't go for the contact when they were in full view of a lot of people, no, but Steve just figured that was because he didn't want people getting up in his business about it like they usually did. Life of the rich and famous; barely anything was private. 

But Peggy looked at him like that was odd. "So you're saying you're voluntarily keeping your relationship secret?"

"It's not a  _secret_ , Peggy," Steve rolled his eyes, "and I do... well, I mean I try to post pictures of him. He just doesn't like them- says he looks bad, and I'm not gonna post them if he doesn't want them up. Obviously."

"But you've put pictures up of him before," Bucky's eyes narrowed a little as he turned to Steve, and Steve could just Goddamn  _sense_  the Protective Mother Bear kicking into action, "just not when you're doing coupley stuff."

"So?"

"So what- he ashamed of you or somethin'?"

Steve looked at him, unimpressed. "No, he's not fucking ashamed, Bucky, you don't know fuck-all about me and him, what did I say about keeping your nose outta my relationship, huh?"

Bucky blinked when Peggy smacked him over the head. "Ignore him, Steve, you know he's just being overly protective. Tony's crazy about you."

He tried not to glare at his best friend. Refused to let him know he may just have hit on (small, very small, barely even visible, really) nerve there. Just nodded and then looked away, grabbing the ice cream before he could say anything more.   
He knew Tony wasn't...it was silly to think like that. It was just him overthinking things. Bucky and Peggy putting stupid ideas in his head. Tony liked to keep things private, so what? Steve didn't care. Well... not really, anyway. He knew that he'd definitely love to let the whole world know if he could- Peggy was right about that much, but if Tony was happier being more private with their relationship, then that was fine too. 

Bucky leaned forward and poked him warily in the chest. "Hey, sorry man. You're right. Tony'd have to be stupid to be ashamed of you, I'm just- I'm just being a dick, you know me."

He glanced over to his friend and then huffed irritably. "Yeah, you are. Anyway, how did this become about me and Tony? I thought we were consoling Peggy over her shitty date?"

"Yes, you're supposed to be fucking be," she grumbled, tugging out her hair from the fancy updo and then flicking the band at Bucky's ear, "ugh, I think I'm going to give up on this. Let mum and dad think I'm some sort of undateable witch, I don't care. Hey, maybe I could date some random guy for like a week, just to get them off my backs about it. That might be an option."

"Well, I'm sure if you asked Clint nicely-" Steve began innocently, looking over to Bucky and then laughing just before he got a faceful of couch cushion in retaliation.

"Shut up, Rogers, I'm not quite that desperate, thank you very much."

He raised his hands in surrender, and then caught Bucky's eyes again just before hearing his best friend mutter a quick "yet," and then scramble to his feet quickly before Peggy could take a swipe at him. Steve just watched them both in amusement as she chased him around the living room for a second, and then tackled him to the floor as soon as she had him in her sights. He winced on Bucky's behalf- when Peggy went in, she didn't go in soft.

Well. 'least he had the couch to himself whilst they were fighting, he thought as he hopped into the space Peggy had just vacated and made himself comfortable. The Princess Diaries was on TV because they'd known Peggy loved it (nothing to do with his and Bucky's preference. At all. Obviously), so he quickly picked up the discarded tub of icecream from the floor and shoved some into his mouth.

Bucky yelled for mercy and called on Steve for aid. He glanced sideways, watching Peggy dig in under his armpits and tickle mercilessly as he lay flailing on the floor.   
He shrugged and turned the TV up a little louder, making a shushing noise over to the corner. Because that was what friends were for, obviously.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

Steve hoisted his bag higher up on his shoulder and made his way over to the cafeteria, eyes going to his table in the corner of the room. There were crowds of people in the way as usual, but he dodged them all expertly and pushed his way over, making a face over to Sam as the other boy spotted him and grinned- because that asshole always _loved_ patting him on the head and assuring him he’d grow enough to part the crowds one day, but until then he’d have to bear being shoved and prodded with elbows.   
With a small sigh, he flipped Sam off and then neatly dodged another shoulder. It had been a long fucking morning of math and history, and in that moment there was one thing in particular he was after. 

Unsurprisingly, he found it a moment later- lounging casually in what had somehow become his spot over the past week, with one foot laying propped on the bench and the other scuffing absently along the floor, the picture of laid-back as he laughed at something Clint was saying.  

Tony looked good. Steve liked him like that; liked him there, with all of them.  

The sigh he’d been in the middle of drifted slowly into a sheepish smile when Natasha nudged the boy’s foot and then muttered something to him, nodding over at Steve. He watched Tony turn, spotting him through the crowds a second later. When his eyes softened and his mouth turned up, a really uncool part of Steve wanted to speed up his pace just so he could get there sooner. 

“Ah, he arrives at last,” Clint declared as Steve flopped heavily onto the spot Tony’s foot had been saving for him seconds earlier, “where’ve you been for the past ten minutes then?” 

“Getting yelled at in math class,” Steve mumbled, dropping his head into his arms and rolling his eyes at the memory, “apparently doodling cartoons in the margins ‘isn’t an acceptable work standard’ or whatever.” 

Everyone laughed, and Steve felt a consolidatory pat on the back from Sam. “Well, at least you didn’t fall asleep this time.” 

Steve glanced up for a second, blushing just a little. Sam gave him one raised eyebrow before sighing in despair. “Man, I can’t even blame you. Math can suck my ass, none of it makes any sense to me.” 

Next to him, he could’ve sworn he could sense Tony’s mouth open, the beginning of a rebuttal on his lips before he remembered who he was with and let it slide. Steve turned his head and shot him a look, and Tony retaliated by sticking out his tongue, because he was mature like that.

“Well I’ve got a double period of it, so the next hour’s gonna be fun too,” he mumbled, rubbing his eye and then sighing dramatically, “how much do you think Mr. and Mrs. Wilson will disapprove if I just say fuck it and drop out?”

Sam didn’t even bother to answer that- just cackled and then slapped Steve’s shoulder again. He heard a snapping sound across the table a moment later, and figured that was another of Clint’s catapults that had just been crushed by Natasha’s fingers, which also meant he was about to be subjected to another fight between those two. Wisely, he chose to zone out- letting his eyes shut against his arms as his friends’ voices steadily rose across the table. 

It was at the point where Sam was having to yank Clint’s ear in order to stop him from throwing a bag of chips at Natasha’s head when Steve felt Tony’s hand settle on the back of his neck, stroking softly. Of course, it invoked an involuntary shiver and smile, and when he turned his head to look at his boyfriend, Tony’s face was mirroring his own. 

“Long morning, huh?” 

“Ugh,” Steve rolled his eyes and then let them shut again as Tony’s hand moved to brush the hairs off his forehead, “long week, more like.” 

“Hate to break it to you baby, but we’re only about ten hours into Monday.” 

Steve shot him a scathing look, grabbing one of Sam’s napkins and chucking it in Tony’s direction. “Don’t remind me.” 

Tony laughed, and honestly, Steve’s own stupid giggles were mostly just involuntary at that point. A reflex action in response to Tony’s own. “If it helps, Thor’s about to grace us with his… large presence in about three minutes, so you might be able to siphon a little bit of energy from him.” Tony scrunched up the napkin and then threw it back, landing it perfectly over Steve’s face.  

Steve huffed and jerked free of the obstruction, and then caught Tony just watching him, eyes soft. Aware Steve had spotted him, he quickly shook his head and turned back to Natasha and Clint’s continued argument, but whilst he watched them, his hand found Steve’s on the table and his fingers started tracing lines into the back of his palm absent-mindedly. Steve smiled again. He loved when Tony did that- the thoughtless contact, the easy touches- it was… it was nice.  

 

He let the break pass him by, eyes mostly shut against the table and hand laid out flat for Tony to mess with as he talked to the others. He heard Thor join them at some point, but aside from a hefty pat on the shoulder, he just left Steve to it.  
It was a only in the last few minutes that Steve propped his head back up, just in time to watch a massive debate open up on the table between which teacher would be most likely to murder Tony before they graduated. Sam, Natasha and Thor were firmly on the side of it being Miss Hill, but Tony and Clint were putting a valiant fight up on behalf of Principal Fury. Hands were gesturing wildly, voices were getting louder, and asses left seats as all of them became more and more adamant. Steve, however, was happy just to watch in vague amusement as Tony used one hand to flip Thor off and the other to continue holding Steve’s own under the table.  

He grinned, rolling his eyes and fiddling with the napkin in his fingers. As he watched Tony, he couldn’t help but notice all the ways the boy moved- fluid hands and shaking heads in order to flip stray hairs out of his shining eyes. He was yelling at Natasha, but there was a huge smile on his face, showing a perfect row of teeth and soft, full lips.  
He really was perfect. 

And so that was apparently why, two minutes later when the bell rang, somehow Steve had found a cartoon drawing of Tony in his hands. It was rough and uneven from the cheap napkin and cheaper pen, but still. 

He blinked. And then blinked again, because he hadn’t- well, he hadn’t drawn anyone in months. Hadn’t really drawn anything at all, for that matter. It was a terrible drawing, really; disproportionate and just stupid, but…   
“Uh,” his mouth came out with, looking down at his hands curiously. The sketch of Tony grinned back up at him; hands mid-motion and hair scraped back from the memory of fingers that had flattened it down seconds previously.   

 

And of course, because it was just his luck, someone swooped down- had to be Tony himself, obviously, seeing as no one else got that close- and looked over his shoulder before he could even put the damn thing away. “What’s that?” 

 

He jumped, hand curling quickly over the stupid napkin and covering the thing from view. He turned, looking up at Tony with a smile and a shake of his head. “Nothing, doesn’t matter-“ 

“That looked like my face,” Tony peered down at him, a small little crease forming on his forehead that made him look adorably confused, “did you draw me?” And it seemed a second later he worked out the answer to his own question, because his eyes widened and his hand curled around Steve’s wrist. “Oh my God, you did, didn’t you?” 

“No, seriously, it’s not anything g-“ 

“I think I’ll be the judge of that, yeah?” Tony tugged at his wrist, pulling him into standing position and then gently uncurling his fist. Steve decided to let him- he knew Tony would only bug him about it for the rest of the day if he didn’t.  

So rather than look at Tony’s face, he rocked awkwardly on his heels and then looked around the room, at all the kids slowly making their way out of the cafeteria. Something hit him in the back of the head, and he turned around to spot Clint raising his eyebrows at Steve and Tony’s close proximity and then making a bunch of rude gestures in response. Steve flipped him off instinctively at the same time Natasha smacked him over the back of his head. 

“Steve,” he turned his head back to the speaker of his name quickly, already feeling the blush crawling up his cheeks. Tony had turned to look back up at him, and Steve noted the way his eyes had widened a little. He looked surprised. A little…  
Well. Steve refused to saw ‘awed’. It wasn’t awe, obviously. He really wasn’t- he wasn’t good enough to inspire that sort of reaction. 

It was only when Tony’s fingers pushed up at his chin that he realised he’d let his head fall. “This is fucking great,” Tony said with a huge smile, “seriously. You said you could draw, but I had no idea you could actually  _draw_ , you know? Wow. Can I keep this? Please please please?” 

Steve frowned. “What?” 

“Keep it. Can I?” 

“I…” Steve faltered, before shrugging in confusion, “I mean- I guess if you really want to-“

“Thanks!” Tony beamed at him and kissed his forehead quickly, before folding the napkin gently and tucking it into the inside pocket of his jacket. His hand found Steve’s again, and although still slightly confused by the entire interaction, Steve just held on and squeezed back lightly as Tony started leading them through the cafeteria. It was always somewhat difficult to follow Tony’s flow, especially when he was having one of his up-days. But Steve was happy to deal with it- kept him on his toes, after all, and there was just something about Tony when he was like that that Steve found- well,  _endearing_ , really. It was kinda transfixing to watch him like that; so alive and so tuned in to everything and nothing at the same time. The logical part of Steve wondered how the hell it was only him and a sparse few other who ever got to see that side of him.  
The possessive part of him was glad that this was a part of Tony that no one _but_ him got to see. It felt like- like the best parts were just for Steve.

 

 He grinned to himself, falling into step beside Tony and then feeling the now-familiar electricity as their shoulder brushed at each stride. Tony turned his head, looking over to him and opening his mouth to say something.   
The words seemed to die on his throat, though, when his eyes flicked briefly across Steve’s shoulder and apparently spotted something worth holding his tongue for.  

Steve watched his face flicker for a second, eyes dimming. And then before Steve could even ask, Tony was shutting down and closing off, stepping a little bit out of Steve’s space as his real smile left and then came back different. Brittle. 

“Hey guys,” he said airily, hand inconspicuously tugging Steve back a step or two, “what’re you doing here?” 

Steve turned, raising his eyebrow as he was met with a group of kids in Tony’s year- his friends, obviously. He noticed Ty at the front, and then a handful of girls- Sunset or whatever the hell she called herself, behind him. Then there was the guy Tony had referred to as Hammer a few days ago in passing, and some buddy of his stood at his side.  
They all looked pretty pissed off, if he was being honest.

“Looking for you,” Ty answered equally airily, but Steve could tell the tension in the air immediately, “you’ve been disappearing a lot lately. You still owe Sunset a pack of cigarettes, you know. You said you’d get them for her next time you went out back.” 

Tony shrugged nonchalantly, before a hand delved into his seemingly bottomless jacket-pocket. A moment later, he’d pulled out a box and was tossing it over to the girl, who caught it in surprise. “There you go. One pack as promised. I’ll see y-“ 

“You’re Steve, right?” One of the girls- Frost, maybe- turned her head to Steve, and then suddenly there were five pairs of eyes on him, all curious, all analytic.   
And Steve… look, he didn’t  _get_  intimidated by people, not as a genal rule- but he knew these kids. He knew how they pretty much ran the entire school. And he was also aware that they never really liked newcomers.

Behind their line of sight, Tony’s hand tightened a fraction around Steve’s. But Steve just nodded casually and turned, facing them all. “That’s me,” he answered with a tight smile. 

Frost cocked her head a little, and Steve caught Ty smirking across at a few of his friends. “Hmm,” she said after a while, turning her eyes back over Steve’s head and across to Tony instead, “so this is our replacement then?” she asked, her voice soft- dangerous. 

Steve grimaced and he tensed, mouth opening to respond with something scathing- but before he even could, there was suddenly a shadow across his side, and looked up to see Thor sidling up to them both. His face was hard.   
“Hey Tony, Steve,” he said, looking down at them for a moment before turning back to the rest, “what are you guys doing indoors at break? Thought you’d be out on the quad getting your hourly nicotine fix?” 

There were some snorts from the group of people, and Ty rolled his eyes, stepping forward to pat Thor on the shoulder fondly. Steve wondered if he caught the look of disdain cross Thor’s face as he did so. “Oh God, you need to relax about the smoking thing. Your brother was telling me all about what a nag you were just this morning. Honestly, I think a cigarette now and then would be good for you, buddy.” 

Thor cast a glance into the small crowd, and his eyes stopped on one of the boys in the back. Dark, greasy hair and a tall frame, with blank eyes that just stared back impassively. Something crossed Thor’s face for a second- something horribly sad- before it blanked out and the look of disdain returned in full force.  

“How about you tell my brother that I expect him home tonight, seeing as he hasn’t ben there for nearly six days now and I’m getting tired of eating alone, huh?” He asked, eyes flicking over to the back of the crowd one last time before he turned to face Tony and Steve, hand reaching to pat Steve on the shoulder.  

“Hey!” someone called from behind them all, and Steve turned only to watch Clint, Natasha and Sam begin to retrace their steps and walk back over too, faces concerned. They must have spotted the standoff as they’d been walking out and come to see what was up.   
Sam folded his arms and walked back to them slowly, before landing right behind Steve. “Is there a problem here?”  He asked warily.  

Steve felt his breath hitch a little, and he waited for the reply. Ty remained silent for a second, head cocked. He seemed almost amused.

“No,” he answered eventually, body loosening as he shrugged. His eyes went over Steve’s head, meeting with Tony’s, where they stayed for a few seconds. “Just wanted to check in on Tony. You’re coming out tonight, right?” 

The group began moving in unanimous agreement, all of them led by Ty himself, who was slowly walking toward them to get to the exit. Steve blinked in surprise when he felt Tony suddenly drop his hand a second before the other boy ended up seeing it. 

“I…” Tony started, and Steve turned to him just in time to watch him forcefully relax himself, breaking into a grin and a careless wave of his hand. He didn’t look at Steve. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be there.” 

Ty grinned, bumping shoulders with him as he passed. It made Steve want to punch the asshole. “Good,” he said softly, “I’ll see you tonight then.” 

There was no way he could deny the smug look Ty sent his way at the words. Instantly, Steve felt his temper rise and jaw clench, and he made a move to step forward and ask just what the fuck Ty meant by that- but then Thor was pressing down firmly on his shoulder in warning, and when he glanced his way, the boy was shaking his head minutely, face solemn. Steve remembered his words from a few weeks ago- ‘ _piss Ty off too much, and he’ll go tattling to Howard.’_    
Right. The same Howard who liked to use Tony as a makeshift punching bag whenever he felt like it. Yeah, okay, so maybe Steve would be better keeping his mouth shut, then. He didn’t want to risk that.

Tony smiled tightly at Ty as he passed, and then when Sunset curled her arm around Tony’s and jerked her head, Steve just watched Tony hesitate for a moment and then lett her lead him off with the rest of them. He looked back at Steve as he went, a slightly nervous smile on his face as he mouthed ‘sorry’ and then shook his head. “I’ll see you later Steve, yeah?”

Steve nodded, smiling back. “Yeah, sure,” he agreed.

Tony- God, Tony beamed at him like he’d just made his morning, and it was… it was so stupid, how he did this to himself- he didn’t want to go and that was obvious- but honestly, Steve just felt glad that at least he was around to give Tony something to look forward to coming back to. He needed that. And Steve wasn’t much, but… well, Tony didn’t seem to mind that. 

So he just waved at Tony as he walked off, watching the other boy grin and wave back- and for a moment he wasn’t the coolest guy in school about to head out for a smoke behind the science block- he was just Tony, the blushing idiot who got tongue-tied when Steve kissed him and always fiddled with his bangs when he got flustered.  _That_  was his Tony; that was the one he wished he could have all the time. 

 

He watched with a sigh as Tony turned back around and wandered off with his other friends, until he felt Thor pat him on the shoulder. Turning his head, he noted the other boy looking in the direction all the others had left off in too.

“Love is difficult, is it not?” He asked quietly, looking back down at Steve. There was a weary smile on his face as he let go and then started to walk forward, following after the others. “I’m gonna go after them. Need to make sure my brother's not… doing something stupid. I’ll see you 'round, guys.”

He saluted wearily and then jogged off, and once he had ducked around the corner it was pretty much just Steve, Clint, Sam and Natasha left in the cafeteria. He could see the kitchen staff eyeing them up warily from behind the counters.   
He looked around at his friends, noting the varying degrees of pity they had on their faces. Which was pretty annoying, seeing as they had no idea what was going on, not really.

“We should probably go to class,” he said in the end, hitching up his bag and then starting to march off over to the exit.

“Steve-“

“Just let it go, guys,” he said before they could attempt to comfort him. He didn’t need it. He knew the situation, and he’d known it going in. Tony was complicated, and his friends were assholes. There was nothing new about that.

Turning to glance back at his friends, he watched their troubled faces stare back at him for a moment before following on behind, keeping their distance and muttering to each other about things Steve couldn’t hear.

  
He tried not to think too hard about why Tony hadn’t wanted anyone to see them holding hands.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

“So, we know the sides of the right-angled triangles are given special names, obviously, hypotenuse, adjacent, etcetera ectera. Just to start us off, how would you guys work out the angle YZ?”

The droning voice of the math teacher buzzed in the room, sending Steve further and further into sleep. He rolled his eyes and then let his head drop into his arms, pencil making useless strokes in the margin of his book. The clock told him only ten minutes had passed- but he felt as if he’d been doing this for about eight years, give or take.   
Math was… not his subject.

“Anyone? Come on, guys, this is just the basic trig, you were doing these in preschool- someone put your hand up and answer! Steve, what about you? Can you tell us?”

Oh. That was his name.  
He jerked upright, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room suddenly on him and his corner in the back of the class. Blinking from the light as he opened his eyes, he squinted at the board. Fuck, it all just looked like scribbling to him. “I… uhh… have no idea, Miss.”

His teacher looked at him for a moment, before rolling her eyes and then waving a hand. “Anyone else, then?”

He sighed, letting his head drop back into his arms. He felt something tap against his head a few seconds later, and then tilted his head and eyed up the ball of paper that had landed just by his hand. Of course, when he opened it up and recognized Jan’s swirly handwriting a moment later, he automatically raised his middle finger in her general direction, trying not to laugh at the thinly veiled insult she’d written on the scrap paper. When he actually glanced up at her, she was just smiling innocently.

“You suck, Van-Dyne,” he mouthed across the room, before flopping back onto the chair and looking at the clock for the billionth time.

Math classrooms were where time stopped existing. One minute lasted an hour in that stupid room.

 

He let himself drift through the next twenty minutes, mind on other things as he half-assed a few questions and thought moodily about all the homework he had to complete when he got home from school. He could probably bribe Bucky into doing a bit of it- God knows the guy owed him a favour or two- but then again, he didn’t exactly fancy giving all his work over to a boy who had once completed a detention by taping seven pens together and then attempted to write out all his lines like that.

Deep in thought, he barely even registered the knocking sound to his left at all- not until the third or fourth thud, anyway. He turned in his seat and looked up at the window, eyes widening when he was met with Tony and Thor staring right back.

He made an incredulous face, mouthing their names and then raising his eyebrows. No doubt they were skipping class- probably hadn’t even gone to it in the first place, if they’d been hanging around with Ty Bain and all the others since the end of break.  
Tony waved, then turned to Thor and pushed him away back down the corridor. Steve watched, amused as the two boys had a brief shoving match, until Thor had to pick Tony up off the floor and then back away when Tony made a few rapid gestures, pointing off in the direction of the science corridor. Once Thor had bounced off looking excited, Tony turned back around and leaned against the windowsill, grinning down at Steve.

‘Can I come in’ he mouthed, gesturing to the door and then raising his eyebrows in question. Steve spluttered, flailing his hands toward the teacher, who was busy… fiddling with a Rubix cube on her desk, right-   
He shrugged, huffing in bewildered amusement. ‘If you want,’ he replied nonchalantly.

Tony winked and then slipped off- and a second later Steve watched the door at the front of class open, Tony’s head poking out. A few of the kids looked up, but he shot them all a sharp look and put a finger to his lips, and they quickly put their heads back down again. Steve just leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, watching the idiot as he looked at the teacher in the other corner and then quickly slipped in as inconspicuously as possible.

“Hello,” he whispered, getting comfortable on the seat next to Steve and then leaning back, chair tilting precariously as he hitched his feet onto the table, “how are you?”

“You saw me less than an hour ago.”

“Yeah, and?”

Steve chuckled, rolling his eyes. “I’m fine, thank you for asking.  _Trying_  to work, actually- except I’m being unfairly distracted by truanting menaces who won’t leave me alone.” He raised his eyebrows and then grabbed his pencil, waving it convincingly in Tony’s face.

Tony just looked at him blankly, glancing at his book for a second. “You’ve done more flowers in the margins than you’ve done questions. And you’ve only drawn two flowers.”

Steve gaped, looking at his book and then realizing that Tony was infuriatingly correct. “Shut up,” he muttered, pushing him in the shoulder and then grabbing his hand before he could tumble off his seat, “and sit on four legs. Chairs are designed like that for a reason.”

Tony just smiled, squeezing their fingers together. “Are you sure you’re 16 and not like, 56 or something?”

“Ha ha,” Steve slumped forward and let his forehead rest on the desk again, sighing loudly, “you know just how to charm a boy, don’t you?”

Tony paused, and then Steve heard the sound of rustling next to him. Looking to the side curiously, he watched Tony pick up the pencil that had been in Steve’s hand and then scratch in the answers on Steve’s book, one after the other. He watched, more than a little fascinated, as Tony methodically worked through each one of them and then put down the pencil thirty seconds later, Steve’s book now complete with the answers. He hadn’t even done any working out.

“Come on a date with me tonight,” Tony said, shutting Steve’s book and turning to face him, “I know a great place, really tiny- I think you’d like it. Best food ever, I swear- even better than my own.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you can cook, can you?”

Tony eyed him for a moment, before putting a hand to his heart. “Excuse me, Rogers, what are you insinuating there? I’ll have you know I am a fabulous chef, thank you very much.”

Steve rolled his eyes and laughed, but when looked up, Tony’s face was surprisingly serious.   
“I’m sorry- for earlier, I mean,” he said, swallowing a little and waving a hand, “I know it was… I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you-“

"Tony, you can't even come out with me; you made plans with those guys tonight, remember?"

Tony waved a hand carelessly, not taking his eyes off Steve. "I'll fall magically ill, come on, this is more important."

“You really don’t have to make anything up-“

“I want to,” Tony cut him off and then sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. He shuffled on his chair and then hoisted his feet onto Steve’s seat, leaning forward and curling his hands around his knees. “I know it’s… listen, things with Ty are complicated and just- it’s hard to navigate that. The last thing I’d want to happen was for you to get hurt over this, okay, and I-“

Steve clamped a hand over his mouth before he could ramble further, smiling up at him. “Tony, I get it,” he said firmly, “it’s fine. Stop worrying."

Tony’s eyes flicked across Steve’s face, observing for a moment. Then he seemed to relax a little, because he stopped sitting so straight and licked Steve’s palm quickly, causing him to yelp and pull back, making a very unimpressed face. “And you think  _I_  don’t act  _my_  age?” He asked, wiping his hand on his jeans. He knew people were probably looking at them both, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He felt like a sap, but Tony was smiling, and that was really all that mattered.

“You’ve had your tongue down my throat, honey, I’m pretty sure you’re not afraid of a bit of spit,” Tony laughed and stood up, kissing him quickly on the cheek before stretching. Steve ducked his head and definitely didn’t think about the last time he’d had his tongue down Tony’s throat. That wouldn’t be a good thing to think about in class. Nope.   
“Meet me after school, yeah?” Tony asked, tucking the chair back in, “I’ll take you out, show you a good time- might need to stop off at my place just for a bit first, though- gotta check my Work-In-Progress Bot hasn’t blown any of his wiring yet, we’re still in the very early stages of development, you know how it is.”

“I… it’s a date,” Steve agreed, half of him wondering what the hell Tony was even talking about whilst the other just tried not to smile too brightly. Because that wasn’t cool.

Tony’s thumb brushed quickly over his cheek, and when Steve glanced up, the other boy’s eyes were shining. “I fucking love that blush of yours,” he declared, before turning on his heel and wandering back the way he’d come, waving behind him. Steve watched everyone in the room stare at him unabashedly on his way out.   
Well, they could stare all they wanted. It was Steve who got to go on a date with him tonight.

Yeah, yeah, he was definitely blushing again. Dammit.

 

“Did- did someone just walk into class?” The teacher asked the room about ten seconds after Tony had slipped back out again, and Steve couldn’t help it- he laughed and laughed and laughed.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

His therapist’s room was exactly what you’d expect to find from someone dealing with the sorts of things she did. It was bland beiges, whites and greys- welcoming but clinical. There was a nice flower in the corner of the room, and she kept the windows open. Probably all attempts to make the place look less threatening, but honestly, it just made Steve feel kinda bored. It gave off that vibe of being a place where things just… never happened. The room that time forgot. He could see the forest outside, though- that was probably the most appealing part. Lots of beautiful greens, contrasted by the blue of the sky; definitely a nice touch to the blandness of the rest of his surroundings-

 

“Steve?” She asked, and he jumped a little, turning back to face her. She was looking at him with a smile, eyebrows slightly raised, “you seem a little out of it today. Anything the matter?”

It had been two weeks since their last session together. He knew that she kept him on close watch, and last time they’d spoken, they’d been talking about some pretty serious stuff. His social worker was coming around in a few weeks to check up on him and see how he was settling into his new place, so she’d been doing the usual evaluation shit. Steve didn’t think it helped much, personally, but people always told him it did, so he was sticking it out for now.

He smiled and shook his head, leaning back on the chair and tapping his fingers against the armrest. “Nah. It’s actually been… it’s been good. Since I last saw you, anyway. I’ve… yeah.”

She nodded, mirroring his body language like she always did and leaning back, relaxing a little. “Good, good. Want to tell me something that happened in particular? It’s always nice to think of some positives, rather than just the bad stuff.”

Steve pondered the question for a moment. “Just... stuff, I guess. Peggy took me shopping the other day, that was fun. Oh, and I’ve started- I’m drawing again,” he said in the end, and then watched as genuine surprise flitted over her face for a second. She nodded, writing something down hurriedly on her notepad and then smiling across to him.

“Steve, that’s great! What is it you’re drawing- you said you’d used to just do still life and your friends, yes? Are you back to that? I bet Bucky was happy to become a model again.”

Steve laughed, nodding along with her despite the fact that it wasn’t quite the truth. He wasn’t exactly sure how to word what he wanted to say- but she remained silent and waited patiently for him, and for that he was grateful.

“It’s actually someone else,” he admitted in the end, biting his lip a little, “someone… uh- well, I’m actually, uh, dating someone. Sort of. Yeah. I mean, yeah, I’m definitely… I’m doing that. So. It’s him. I’m drawing… mostly just him.”

Magically, it seemed she understood that, because her smile grew and she noted something else down. “Wow Steve, this is really good stuff. I take it this definitely all positives, right?”

“Oh yeah, definitely,” Steve nodded with enthusiasm, feeling the phone sitting in his pocket, three of Tony’s texts just waiting to be read, “he’s… he’s great. Really kind. He- he gets it. Me. It’s nice.”

She nodded along, “ah; a kindred spirit.”

“Yeah, basically.”

She smiled softly, crossing her legs and then observing him for a second. “You know, I'm really pleased for you, Steve,” She declared, her eyes twinkling, “you’re usually very good at depriving yourself of things that make you happy because you think you don’t deserve them. But there’s always going to be a point when you start to let that go- when you begin to let happiness in, in whatever form it comes from, and that’s when you know change is around the corner. It won’t be an easy path, we both know that. But this is the first step. And I’m glad we’re reaching that point now. Because it starts slowly- that’s why we work on trying to get you back into your old routines, your passions, your hobbies. You have to work your way back up. Seeing that you’re socialising a bit more, you’re practising a hobby you enjoy doing- it means you’re taking action. Even if they’re just little things, and even if you have to stop for whatever reason, or you end up falling back a few paces- this is just proof that you’re capable of getting at least one foot on the ladder. Remember that, Steve. ”

He nodded, and she noted some more things down before beginning talking again; mostly stuff that went in one ear and out the other, because she’d been right about him being out of it that day. His mind was elsewhere, and he happily let it drift as she spoke- thinking about Bucky and his new car that had already broken down on the road when he’d been supposed to pick Natasha up for their date night, about Tony’s laughing face and promise to help him fix it up for free rather than spend a fortune at the garage. Bucky sure had been grateful for that, and Steve was absolutely convinced they were friends now- no matter what they kept muttering when Steve asked them.

 

The session finished up at 5, and as soon as Steve was out the door he’d pulled out his phone, checking the new message that’d buzzed during the hour. One was from Clint, asking him to send pictures of the science homework ASAP, and the other two were from Tony, telling Steve to ring him. Although when he did try, it only went through to voicemail, so Steve figured he must have missed his window. Damn therapy, ruining everything with all its stupid feelings-talk.

He took the bus back and spent the rest of the night with Sam and Clint, watching movies and trying to cram in all the homework they had due. He was despairing over the math, dubious about the history and downright angered by the ridiculousness of the science, but… still happy, overall. It felt kinda weird- usually when things went wrong, that was just the beginning of his next spiral, and yet now he was looking at  _at_   _least_  3 separate detentions, not to mention failing all his goddamn exams, but… but the sense of being overwhelmed wasn’t really coming.

This was probably what the therapist had been talking about with all that ‘healing’ shtick. Or, you know, just the loss of ability to give a fuck about school.   
Whatever- at least homework didn’t seem to be making him want to jump out the fucking window anymore, which sure was great!

 

“So,” Clint interrupted Steve’s train of thought in his usual Clint Way, and when he looked over in Steve’s direction, Steve just sighed and prepared for something undoubtedly stupid and/or terrible to fall from his friend’s mouth.   
However, he ended up being surprised by a suspiciously innocuous “How’s things going with you and Tony then?”

He’d been expecting something far more invasive than that, if the look on Clint’s face had been anything to go by. Steve rolled his eyes and looked away from his two friends, who were busy shooting smug little glances at one another and smiling down at him in pride. “It’s good,” he said, leaning back against the couch, “you know it’s good.”

They’d seen him and Tony together. Pretty much everyone had seen him and Tony together at some point. It had been a month, now, and Steve knew about the rumours that were flying through school about them both. Steve had come to find himself at the center of way more attention than he was used to- everyone was suddenly very interested in his life, his background, who he was. He’d heard one person talk about how he was actually even richer than Tony, and so they’d become friends in order to set up a huge business together that was going to take over the American economy. Others had been talking about his ‘mysterious background’ and the fact it meant he was probably part of a gang and actually caused more trouble than Tony did. Very few of them actually landed on the simpler explanation of ‘they’re dating’, which kind of pissed Steve off a little, he wasn’t going to lie.

Was it really so absurd to think that? Surely it was more likely than the stupid billionaire thing.

 

Clint laughed, and it pulled him out of his thought spiral as he remembered to throw a peanut shell at the boy. It didn’t deter him, though, because after he’d pulled the little shell from his hair, he just went right back to looking at Steve questioningly. “Come on, man, you’ve been giving us the bare bones for weeks now. We wanna know the details!”

Steve just shrugged, looking at them both a little confusedly. “I mean- what do you want to know?”

Sam, who had been busy on his phone a second ago, suddenly piped up. “He as good in bed as everyone says he is?”

Steve’s eyes widened and he spluttered, then watched Sam look up briefly, waving his phone. “Nat’s question, not mine.”

“I- I don’t- that’s not-“

“Come onnnnn, Steve,” Clint prodded him in the side with his feet and grinned, “we’re friends, it’s what friends do-“

“We haven’t,” Steve blurted before either of them could continue, “we haven’t done… that, yet. Just- uh- making out. And dates and stuff.”

 

There was an awkward silence, and both Clint and Sam’s eyebrows shot up as they stared at him. Steve just looked back at them, trying not to blush under their gazes.

 

In all honesty, though, he was… well, he was as confused as they were. It wasn’t that Tony was  _easy_  or whatever horrible things everyone else liked to say about him, of course not, but- but he’d just sort of expected Tony to be more open to it, that was all. They’d had some pretty intense making-out sessions together, after all, but the furthest Steve had managed to get was pulling Tony’s shirt over his head before the boy ended up stopping them or getting distracted and then – well, then that was it. They did this any longer, and Steve was going to develop a complex or something- because he  _knew_  Tony… Tony wanted to. He was almost certain of it.

Obviously, though, Steve wasn’t going to make him do anything. If Tony wasn’t ready, that was fine. He could wait as long as Tony wanted him to- even if he was never ready for the rest of their relationship, that would be okay. He would just have to… spend a little more time with his right hand or something, but he could do it. It wasn’t a problem.

It would just be nice, that was all.

 

“You haven’t…  _anything_?” Sam asked, squinting his eyes and leaning forward, “at all? Not even like-“ Steve sighed as he watched Sam gesturing what looked like an incredibly awkward handjob, and then shook his head simply, trying to turn back to his work.

Except now he was thinking of Tony and handjobs, which was fucking great. Thanks, Sam.

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’ through tight lips and then looked back up, “not yet. Which is fine. Absolutely fine.”

Both Clint and Sam raised their hands in submission. “Yeah, man, totally,” Clint hurried to assure him, “like, good for you, waiting ‘til you’re ready and stuff, that’s absolutely-“

“It’s not me who’s not… into it,” Steve explained, looking down at his hands awkwardly.

There was silence again, and then Clint, again, in his usual Clint Way, blurted  _“Tony Stark_  doesn’t want to fuck someone?”

“Hey, watch it,” Steve looked up sharply and glared, and Clint hastily backtracked, shaking his head hurriedly.

“Not, I mean, not like… well, it’s just… he’s usually… not known for-“

“Digging yourself into a hole here, man,” Sam patted him on the shoulder and shut him up as Steve’s eyes went narrower and narrower, “but Steve, he’s just surprised, that’s all. It’s not a secret that Tony’s more relaxed about that sorta stuff. Why do you think he’s not made a move yet?”

Steve raised his hands in frustration, leaning his head back against the pillows. “I dunno! He’s just… not. I can’t work it out, like he’s totally into it one minute, and then he’s suddenly just- just talking about something else, or doing something else, and like, I’m not gonna  _push_ , obviously, but… I’m just confused, that’s all.” He shrugged in defeat, looking over to his friends with a weary smile and then chucking a pillow at Clint. “Also, if you imply my boyfriend is a slut again I’m gonna kick your ass, Barton.”

And, of course, barely a second later they were pillow fighting in the middle of the living room whilst Sam sighed and attempted to break it up. This signaled the end to any homework attempts, obviously- and they all accepted their fate ten minutes later when they packed the books back into their bags. Mrs. Wilson probably wouldn’t be too happy at the fact that both her boys had landed themselves with about five different detentions, but that was the nature of school, wasn't it?   
Also, he and Sam were both lazy as fuck and it was about time Mrs. Wilson accepted that.

 

Later that night, he lay back on his bed and held his phone up about an inch from his face, smiling up at the barrage of texts Tony was sending him about some argument he’d been having with Bruce earlier that evening. It was adorable, really- watching him get so frustrated over something Steve could barely even get his head around- and he laughed to himself in the empty room, glad Tony couldn’t hear and get offended.

He grinned at the phone a second later, when Tony wrote  _‘you’re laughing at me, aren’t you’ and_ then proceeded to ignore him for what Tony had declared ‘the rest of the night’ but was actually ‘until I got bored waiting’- which turned out to be four minutes.

 

Out of nowhere, his therapist’s words rung out in his ears; a distant echo from earlier that day.  
_‘When you begin to let happiness in, in whatever form it comes from, that’s when you know change is around the corner’_

 

He turned his head; looked out through the crack in his curtains where the streetlight and the orangey glow from the sky looked back at him, and realized that she was right. He’d started to let himself be happy. He had friends- good friends who were there for him and who understood him. A home where he was loved and people who he could rely on, even though they weren’t his official family. He felt as if he actually wanted to get up and  _do_  things again, rather than just go through the motions. And he’d… and there was Tony. He’d found Tony, somehow, and that was… more than he could ever have hoped he would get, really.  
He was letting himself be happy

Weird. But nice.

Yeah.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Hey, so you know like, a week ago when I went to that stupid PR event with my dad at that weird arty museum place?” Tony asked suddenly, pulling away from Steve’s mouth and talking raspily, trying to catch his breath.

They were both stood in Tony’s kitchen, and the stupid cookies Steve had tried to teach Tony how to bake were probably getting a little overdone by this point, but it felt like too much wasted time to bend down and turn the oven off- especially when Tony was right there, waiting for him with his beautiful mouth and ridiculous, gorgeous face. He was happy to let them go and mark them off as a lost cause- he had to prioritize, after all.

Steve chuckled, tilting his head and kissing lightly across the underside of Tony’s jaw. “You mean the world-famous Museum of Modern Art? That one?”

“Still a weird arty museum place, I wasn’t wrong,” Tony tilted his head back until it hit the kitchen cupboards and then made a wonderful noise at the back of his throat as Steve bit down lightly his earlobe, “but- but yeah, that place, I was… there was a- a thing, which I can’t… Oh God-”

He trailed off into a sharp inhale as Steve moved again and started sucking on his neck, and Steve grinned a little against his skin, letting his hands move from Tony’s shoulders to his chest to his waist before stopping at his shirt, giving an experimental tug. They were home alone, as per usual whenever Steve visited Tony’s place- he’d said Howard was on a 2 week business trip- and so that meant they had the whole house to themselves, for the whole night.  
Not That Steve was thinking about that. Definitely not. He was just… making an observation.

He let his hands move, light and curious over Tony’s stomach, and then grinned when it pulled a lovely little whimper from him. It really was something Steve thought he was never going to be able to get over- the way he could mess Tony up so easily, make him moan just by kissing him in the right way. Tony was very expressive, and Steve fucking loved it.  
He wanted to know the sounds he made when Steve went lower, too.

His hands rose, pulling Tony’s shirt up experimentally and then feeling Tony move of his own accord, arms lifting to let Steve get it off faster. Smiling in excitement, he did just that- and this time he managed to get the damn thing almost all the way off before Tony tugged at his hands and then flipped them expertly, until he was leaning over Steve and had his wrists encased gently within his hands.

“Anyway, like I was saying- I was at the stupid building and they were talking about this competition thing, for young artists? I was thinking you should-“

“You know, you’re not very good with subtle distractions, are you?” Steve cut in dryly, looking up at him through his lashes and smiling when he saw Tony’s eyes widen a little. The boy opened his mouth and frowned, but then Steve saw the tell-tale red begin to stain his ears, and knew he’d caught Tony out that time.

Sighing fondly, he leaned in and pressed an innocent kiss to Tony’s nose. “You know, if you don’t want to go any further than kissing, you can just say so. It’s fine, Tony, really.”

Tony opened and shut his mouth a few more times before sighing. His eyes fluttered closed and he leaned his head forward, smiling into Steve’s hair. “God, Steve, you have to have realized that I want to do a little more than kiss you at this point. Come on, I’m trying, but I know I’m not being subtle.”

Steve frowned slightly. “Huh?”

Above him, Tony paused for a second and then leaned back, head turning to the ceiling as he huffed. “ _You_ , Steve. I want you very very much, very very often. But… I just…”

“What? Then why the hell do you always change the subject or get distracted or leave whenever I try-“ Steve made a wavy gesture with his hands, “-y’know, going further?”

Tony looked at him, before just sighing and shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter, Steve-“

“It _does_ matter, I just want to know what I’m doing wrong here, okay? Is it… I know I’m new to this stuff, but- but I dunno, you could maybe just, tell me where it is I’m fucking up or someth-“

“Steve,” Tony looked at him as if he’d just grown another head, “Steve, what the fuck, you’re not doing anything _wrong_ , oh my God, I- no. Just… no.” He made a few incredulous little faces for a few seconds, and then just dropped his head into his hands. His shirt was still hanging comically off his shoulders, and the anxious part of Steve wanted to straighten it out, just for something to do.

“Steve, look,” he said eventually, fanning out his hands and then curling them back in again, “I don’t want you to think you’re just another…”

Tony made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, struggling to find the words. “I don’t want you to ever think you’re just another cheap fuck, alright? You’re… you’re so much more than that. And I know- I know what people say about me, okay, I know my reputation. But… I figured if I just waited a bit, then maybe you’d- I don’t know, maybe you’d not think of me like-“  
_Like everyone else thinks of me,_ went unsaid, but Steve could see it in the way Tony was looking at him.

He stared in shock as Tony bit his lip and then looked away, trying to play it off with a roll of his eyes. When he turned back to Steve, his face was carefully nonchalant. “I just didn’t want to freak you out, that was all-“

Steve cut him off with a kiss, looping his arms tight around Tony’s neck and standing up to his tiptoes to press his full body up against the other boy. He tried to make sure everything he felt was conveyed in the kiss, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough. Nothing would ever really be enough to try and get Tony to see, _really_ _see_ what he meant to Steve.

“I wouldn’t care if you’d used to sleep with three people every night and the entire school had told me as much,” Steve mumbled into his mouth, feeling Tony wind his arms around Steve’s waist and tug him even closer.

“Okay, well that _is_ pretty excessive, even for me-“

“Tony,”

“Right, okay, I’ll shut up,” he broke away and mimed zipping his lips, although it ultimately failed a second later when Steve kissed them open again.

“I don’t care, Tony, seriously,” Steve told him seriously, looking up at him through his eyelashes and noting the way Tony’s own eyes were blown wide, how his cheeks were tinted with pink and his throat working as he swallowed nervously. He genuinely was scared that Steve thought that little of him. It made his heart hurt, just a little bit. “I know who you are. I see you. And I’m not going to change my mind.”

He found Tony’s hand and linked their fingers together, smiling at him reassuringly. Tony looked down at their intertwined fingers for a second- and he looked so fucking confused, like he really just hadn’t expected any of that at all. Steve squeezed their hands tighter.

“You’re really… you’re sure?” He croaked in the end, finally turning his gaze back to Steve and eyeing him almost warily. “Steve, I know… are you really certain you want your first time to be with m-“

“Oh, shut up,” Steve rolled his eyes and kissed him again, trying not to laugh at the ridiculousness of what Tony was trying to say. “What; d’you think I’m gonna just wander off and find someone else to fuck and then come back when I’m done?”

Of course, that made Tony scowl automatically, and his hand flexed tighter around Steve’s waist. “No, don’t do that,” he muttered sulkily, and Steve laughed, smoothing out his brow with a thumb and then kissing him again.

“Wasn’t planning on it, darlin’,” he assured him quietly, “that’s why I’m here and not anywhere else.”

When he leaned back again, Tony’s eyes were shut and he was taking in a shaky breath. He waited a few seconds until he could see the electric blue of Tony’s eyes, and then grinned brightly. Couldn’t help it. He felt excited and nervous and _really_ in love; it was enough to make him feel like he was drunk off it.  
His hands moved slowly and then curled around the belt loops of Tony’s jeans, only to be stopped by Tony’s hands- again. When he looked up questioningly, Tony just shook his head and frowned once more.

“I’m not fucking you for the first time in my _kitchen_ , Steve,” he said in bewilderment, before taking Steve’s hand and then stepping back.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Oh, who says _you’re_ gonna be the one fucking _me_ , sweetheart?”

Yeah, so he’d had a feeling beforehand, but there was no way to deny the response that statement had on Tony. He stumbled where he was stood, turning back to Steve with wide eyes and then promptly choking on air a second later.

Steve just grinned harder, overtaking Tony when he stopped and then pulling him out of the room by the hand. He felt brave, all of a sudden. He knew Tony wanted him. He knew he wasn’t actively doing anything wrong, so what exactly was there to be afraid about?  
Well, lots of things, but Steve wasn’t thinking about that right now. He was tired of thinking himself into a panic about everything.

 It was Tony. It was going to be absolutely fine.

“Come on,” he said with a laugh, watching as Tony attempted to reboot himself and follow along, “we’ve- well, actually I guess we _do_ have all night, don’t we?”

Tony blinked, before just nodding, still rather dazed as he looked at Steve. “Uh huh. Yeah.” He jumped a little, and then raised a quick finger and turned away, stumbling back over to where they’d been a second ago. Steve watched in amusement as he hastily yanked on a pair of oven mitts and then pulled out their cookies, throwing the tray uncaringly on the side and then turning back to Steve immediately. “Okay, so now the house won’t burn down too.”

“Always an added bonus.”

“Definitely.”

They laughed nervously at each other as Steve took Tony’s hand in his own again and then started pulling them out into the enormous corridor. He hoped he remembered where the fuck Tony’s room was after all this, honestly.

Luckily, he did find it, thanks to his great memory and rather specific motivations. He pushed it open confidently and then just laughed when Tony clamped a sudden hand over his eyes, telling him not to look. He was made to stand by the door for a full minute as Tony sprinted around his room, undoubtedly cleaning the dirty underwear and random bits of paper up and stuffing them all in a cupboard, if the sounds were anything to go by. When Tony came back and kissed him again, Steve was half convinced it was just in an attempt to stop Steve from being able to see the flush of embarrassment on his cheeks.

He had discovered early on that he wasn’t the only one the relationship whose colouring gave away their emotions. Tony blushed like crazy if the right thing (and mostly Steve-related things, he’d found out with amusement) happened.

“Okay,” Tony said eventually, breaking away and looking down at him with a small smile. His hands framed Steve’s face as he tapped the door shut with his foot and then kissed him once, twice, three times. “Tell me what you want, Steve. Anything at all.”

Steve beamed and grabbed his shoulders, pushing him backward until the back of his knees hit the bed and he fell backwards with a short yelp, Steve landing right on top of him. He made quick work of the rest of Tony’s shirt and then discarded it somewhere on the floor before leaning in again, hands braced on either side of Tony’s face as he kissed him.

Toy looked up with wide eyes, the shining blue suddenly a few shades darker, like an ocean in storm- and just seeing him like that, splayed out underneath Steve, with his hair falling back onto the bed and his hands still gripping tight to Steve’s hips- it was enough to make him crazy with want.

 

“Just you is fine, sweetheart,” he whispered, before taking Tony’s mouth in a kiss, “all I need is you.”

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

He woke up on a bed that wasn’t his own, and he knew this because there was someone else in it.

 

His bed wasn’t big enough for that. And he didn’t get morning sunlight- his windows faced the wrong way. Plus, y’know, he was currently sprawled out like an octopus on sheets that felt way too soft to be his own, and he hadn’t fallen out of it yet, which meant he was on a double or larger.

Of course, it came back quickly after that.

He smiled into the pillow, rubbing his eye tiredly and yawning. He didn’t bother opening his eyes- still too tired for that. It took a long time for him to wake up properly in the mornings, and everyone knew his rule about consciousness before double digits. Plus, he knew Tony was awake next to him- he could feel the other boy tracing patterns into his back softly- and he didn’t want to disturb that. It felt nice.

 

So he stayed still and buried his head back into the pillow, drifting off into a lazy half-sleep.

 

Tony’s body was warm next to him, and one of Steve’s hands was lying loosely over his hip. It fit well; he liked it. It belonged there, really. Tony belonged here forever, in bed with him, careless. There was nothing else in the world except them- or at least it felt like it, in that moment in time. If he turned his head just then, he knew what he’d see.  
Tony would be looking at him, his elbow resting on the mattress and head resting in his hand whilst his spare one brushed lazily over Steve’s back, writing out the patterns or equations or whatever it was he was thinking out onto Steve’s skin. His hair would be messed up- Steve had had his hands in it all night, there was no way it would be even slightly neat after that- and there’d be little creases in the side of his cheek from where he’d slept against the pillow. Oh- and there’d be about a dozen hickeys covering various areas of his body. Steve remembered at least two landing on his neck, though. It sent a reminiscent shiver of lust running down into his toes, and he grinned into the pillow again, thanking those leftover endorphins for his good mood.

Well. Good mood felt a little bit like an understatement. He felt on top of the fucking world, more like.

On the other side of him, Tony sniffed a bit and then shuffled around, hand leaving Steve’s back briefly to do something else. Honestly, the little huff of annoyance was involuntary, but it had escaped him before he could help it, and he heard Tony pause for a moment before laughing softly.

“Put it back,” Steve mumbled into the sheets, and a second later Tony obeyed the command, because Steve felt his hand settle back where it had been a second previously. Steve imagined he’d be smiling.

God, okay, fuck it, he wanted to look too badly. Napping was gonna have to wait.

Shuffling with a sleepy grunt, he shifted his head and then laid it back on the pillow so he was facing the other way.  
Tony was looking down at him, his head rested on top of his hand whilst his spare one brushed lazily over Steve’s back, writing out the patterns and equations he’d been doing earlier into his skin. His hair was an absolute mess- large portions of it sticking straight up, whilst the rest of it hung loosely over his eyes, and there were small creases on the side of his cheek from where he’d slept. And- yeah, there were those hickeys Steve had been talking about. Still standing out against the rest of his skin, Steve prided himself on a job well done. They looked hot as fuck, and he was kinda wanting to run his mouth over them again, make them even darker and more visible just because he wanted the whole world to know who Tony belonged to. Melodramatic, possibly, but Steve didn’t even care.  
That boy was unequivocally _his_. And he wanted everyone to know about it.

Tony smiled down at him, and Steve shut his eyes again as he laid back into the pillows. He knew he probably looked a mess- unlike Tony, he wasn’t so good at waking up perfect- but right now he was too blissed out to really worry too much about it.

Steve had almost drifted back into a light sleep when Tony started talking.

“Cosa ho fatto per meritarti?” He whispered, barely even audible as his fingers moved up the knobs in Steve’s spine, “come fai a essere così perfetto?”

The way Tony spoke Italian was absolutely beautiful to Steve’s ears. No idea what he was saying, of course, but it didn’t matter. He would listen to Tony speak like that all day if he could. He’d even heard some words slip out last night- mostly ones he could understand- muttered curses and compliments, slurred from breathlessness, but just about audible, and making Steve even crazier. He didn’t know what it was about them, exactly. Maybe it was just because they came from Tony. But to him, they sounded like some of the most beautiful things in the world.

Tony’s hand drifted into Steve’s hair and pushed it from his face, before curling around his jaw and resting there gently. Steve tilted his head and pressed a sleepy kiss into his palm, and then heard the way Tony sighed above him.

“Sarò pure egoista, ma farei di tutto per stare con te per sempre,” Tony murmured, before his hand disappeared from Steve’s face. He blinked his eyes open a second after, then watched Tony’s lips curl into a smile as they looked at one another. “Good morning, Steve Rogers.”

“Mmmf,” Steve squinted up at him and then rolled, turning his head back into the pillows, “are the clocks into double digits yet?”

A short pause, and then “afraid not.”

“Then don’t talk to me until they are.”

Tony just laughed, and the bed dipped as he leaned over and planted a kiss on the crown of Steve’s head. “Aww, I’m happy to wake up next to you too, sweetheart.” He heard Tony as he rolled off the bed and then pressed his feet into the wooden floor, and couldn’t resist stealing a peak as Tony stretched, then looked around for what he figured were probably some clothes.

“Yeah yeah, whatever, glad you’re here etcetera, now can you be here quietly? Steve muttered, flopping back into the pillow and curling in around the bedsheets, “I don’t want to have to kill you just after sleeping with you. That would be really impolite.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re not a morning person, Steve?”

“I wasn’t aware that Tony Stark _was_ , and it’s making me begin to regret my decisions. Is the sex really worth the disgusting upbeat attitude next morning?”

There was a short silence at that, and then Tony coughed, lowering his voice a few octaves. “I can be moody, if you want,” he said, a hint of petulance in his voice, “I’m great at moody. I’m mostly always moody- you’ve seen me at school.”

Steve finally sat up then, spotting Tony standing in front of him, looking at himself in the full-length mirror and rubbing gently over the love-bites on his neck. He was indeed clad only in his boxers, and Steve cocked his head as he observed that ass without shame. It was a fucking great ass.

“Okay, fine, be happy if you really have to,” he surrendered in the end, rolling his eyes and then trying not to smile when he saw the grin Tony sent him in the reflection of the mirror, “just don’t expect me to come back after this, that’s all.”

Tony didn’t answer to that one, and when Steve glanced over to him again, he saw the boy’s face suddenly freeze up in the reflection of the mirror before he turned his head jerkily downward and away from him. Sensing he’d just misstepped, he grabbed a pillow and then flung it toward the back of Tony’s head. “Joke,” he confirmed, “that was a joke, Tony. Horrifyingly enough, I’m actually enjoying waking up early on a Saturday morning this time.”

Blinking back to life a few moments later, Tony turned around and made a face, picking up the pillow and chucking it back at him. “I know it was a joke, obviously,” he said airily, although his eyes spoke otherwise as he wandered over to Steve’s side of the bed and then grabbed his phone from the nightstand.

Steve curled his hand around Tony’s wrist quickly, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Then why’d you look so shocked by it, hm?”

Tony paused, and then just shrugged, looking down at his screen. His shoulders were a little tense though. “That’s… just what everyone else says. Said. Whatever-“

There was a second in which Steve allowed himself to think violent thoughts at everyone who’d been with Tony in the past, before just letting it slide away in order for him to curl his fingers into Tony’s and squeeze. They didn’t matter any more, and they never had. “Well, Good thing I’m not everyone else then,” he said simply, before pulling at Tony’s hand sharply and then sending him tumbling back onto the bed, “because actually, I was lying. I’m staying here forever. Your bed is comfortable and bigger than my own, so we’re gonna have to do a swap.”

“Yeah, because I’m voluntarily going to share a home with Wilson.”

“Oh, no one said you were volunteering. This isn’t an option.”

Tony grabbed the pillow back from Steve and smacked him with it. Steve spluttered in offence and hit him back. Of course, this ended with Tony pinning him effortlessly a few moments later, hands digging into his sides and tickling him ruthlessly, despite Steve’s loud yelling and ungainly flailing.

“Okay, so now we have that argument settled,” Tony said five minutes later, flopping down over Steve’s body and then crossing his arms over Steve’s chest, “I’m gonna have to remind you that Barnes and Peggy are ‘round at your place as we speak, waiting for your arrival. I don’t want them to storm my house with pitchforks and torches, so I’m afraid you are actually getting kicked out.”

Steve pouted, looking up at Tony and then scowling. “I thought I won that argument,” he said moodily.

“You thought wrong. I loathe to say this, Rogers, but get some clothes on.” Tony rolled off him and then grabbed Steve’s shirt from the floor, tossing it over.

They both got ready quickly- or at least, as quickly as they could manage whilst in the company of one another and wearing minimal amounts of clothes. So all things considered, an hour was pretty good.

He watched Tony pass the mirror as they were on their way out, and then touch one of the marks on his neck again. When he frowned at it, Steve almost opened his mouth to ask if they were okay- but Tony got there first.

“Just let me stop off at my desk, and I need to grab some makeup to cover these up.”

Steve watched him hurry off suddenly, and pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth as he reeled back the small question in the back of his mind as to why he wanted to get rid of them so badly. Before they’d been dating he’d seen Tony walk around with what was quite frankly way worse covering his neck.  
But whatever. He dismissed it fairly quickly- too early to be worrying about those things after all.

 

Later- once Tony had finished messing around with the makeup and his hair in the bathroom (Steve hadn't realized the Messy Yet Effortless look took quite so much... effort) and they were finally walking out of the door, Steve suddenly found himself face to face with a Tony Stark that wore the kind of smile on his face that undoubtedly spelled trouble. He leaned back against his bike and looked at Steve over his sunglasses, and Steve just sighed and stared at him in what was supposed to be exasperation, but probably ended up looking more like excited curiosity.

“Hey, so d’you wanna do something that’ll probably really piss Bucky off?” He asked in the end.

Ah, fuck, Steve was in love.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

Steve stepped off Tony’s bike twenty minutes later, looking over to Sam’s house and spotting Bucky just as he pulled open the door and glared over to him.

He checked his watch curiously. Right. Forty minutes late- that was probably what the death stare was for.

Pulling off his helmet, he tossed it over to Tony and then grinned, watching in delight when Tony pulled off his own helmet and wrapped his arm around Steve’s waist, kissing him soundly. When the broke away, Tony winked, giving him a quick once over. “Looking good, sweetheart.”

Steve laughed. “I’ll text you later. Oh, and you should probably stay away from Brooklyn for a few weeks”

Tony just rolled his eyes, revving his engine and then leaned forward to wave at Bucky. “Aw, babe, don’t worry, I’ll send him apology flowers later.”

“Write ‘sorry I had sex with your best friend for real this time’ in the card.”

“Oh, you’re full of good ideas, aren’t you?”

Steve laughed and then with a final kiss, he turned away and started walking up the sidewalk, hands in the pockets of Tony’s leather jacket. It was a little big on him, and hung loosely over his shoulders, but still… he looked good.

When Bucky noticed it, his mouth dropped open. Steve just grinned up at him, wandering closer until he was near enough to pat on the shoulder. “For the record,” he said in amusement, “ _this_ is what ‘swanning back home like Tony Stark’s winnings’ looks like.”

Bucky didn’t say anything; just stared at him in shock as he passed through the door. Then his head jerked back to where Tony was sat at the bottom of the little driveway, and a truly foul stream of curses fell from his mouth as he raised a finger and pointed it accusingly at Tony. “Oh, boy, you are _SO DEAD!”_ He yelled.

Tony just laughed and gave a lazy salute, before kicking off the brake and pulling out into the road again. From over Bucky’s shoulder, Steve blew him a quick kiss and then yelped when Bucky gave him a sulky shove in the chest. “Feeling a little sense of déjà vu are we, Bucky?” He asked innocently.

He couldn’t quite hold in his laughter as Bucky shut the door moodily and turned to him, finger raised. He looked at the jacket for a second, grinding his teeth, but then just sighed. “I probably deserved that one,” he muttered in the end, before pushing Steve’s forehead away with two fingers and marching off, “but he’s still an asshole.”

“Do you like the jacket?”

“No.”

“Well that’s not very nice-“

“Suck my ass, you big fat jerk, I’ve told you a million times, I was _trying_ to be a protective friend, it just ended up being… slightly misplaced,” Bucky snapped irritably, walking into the front room with Steve at his heels. He stopped halfway through the door though, and Steve almost brained himself on the guy’s shoulder. “Although, now you’ve actually fucked, that _does_ give me permission to threaten him with death if he hurts you, seeing as you just moved up a stage in your relationship and I’m allowed to interfere again.”

“Uh, no, your ban on interfering in my relationship was strict and permanent-“

“Nuh uhhh, The Law of Best Friends says otherwise,” Bucky told him with a shrug, “we get a fresh threat with every base passed, that’s the rules.”

“Those rules were literally just made up by yourself like, three seconds ago.”

“No they weren’t, they’re ancient and timeless.”

“I fucking hate you.”

“Shut up and go get some breakfast, punk,” was all Bucky answered with, patting him sharply on the back. Steve rolled his eyes, but turned off into the kitchen all the same- only to be stopped when Bucky’s hand curled around his shoulder.

Looking back with an eyebrow raised in question, he watched as Bucky glared menacingly one last time at the jacket, before sighing a little. “And…I guess the jacket isn’t so bad, really,” he muttered, before turning around quickly and marching into the living room.

Steve grinned, knowing that was as good of a blessing as Bucky was going to give him.

And if he checked himself out in the reflective oven door as he passed it, no one needed to know.  
He _did_ look fucking good in Tony’s clothes, after all.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _Hey you remember what I was saying on Friday, about the Museum thing? Before you distracted me with your terrible hands._

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Vaguely, yes._

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _You were talking about a competition thing, right? Something like that?_

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Yeah_

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _Okay so basically the whole event was boring as fuck and I had to spend the entire night trying to dodge Justin, who’d also somehow managed to weasel his way into the party, which was fucking terrible, let it be known- but anyway, they were talking about this event thing, for young artists. Under 18’s, I do believe. Open subject, it could be whatever you want._

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _I think you should do it._

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _??_

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Tony, no way am I good enough to enter a comp from the MoMA. I’ve only just started drawing again after ages- I’m still rusty._

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _Don’t lie to me, Rogers, I’ve seen some of the things you draw. It’s better than like 79% of the shit they were presenting there, definitely._

 **_Tony Stark_ ** _: You could do it. I bet you could. And if you win they’ll hang it up and u get like. A thousand $$$ or something like that._

**_Steve Rogers_ ** _: Tony, I appreciate the thought, but I’m really not up to that standard. There’s not much point._

**_Tony Stark:_ ** _:( :(_

 **_Tony Stark:_ ** _Even if ur super duper supportive BF missed out on his direly needed cigarette break just to listen in to some old fart talk about art competitions for twenty minutes?????????_

**_Steve Rogers:_ ** _I appreciate the effort you went to, but I’m afraid it was probably for nothing_

 **_Steve Rogers_ ** _: Idk, I’ll think about it_

 **_Steve Rogers_ ** _: maybe_

 **_Steve Rogers:_ ** _Just so all your hard work doesn’t go to waste_

****

**_Tony Stark_ ** _: :) :) :)_

 

Steve grinned down at his phone and then looked back up, trying to focus back in on class. Truthfully, he wasn’t actually going to think about it- there wasn’t a hope in hell he’d get anything out of it, and so what was the point, really? He wasn’t good enough. He could accept that.  
Still- it was sweet of Tony to think he was.

He looked out of the window into the halls, mind drifting as it usually did when he was stuck in a classroom for too long. He thought about his art for a moment- allowed himself the guilty fantasy of one day having his own work up there, just like Tony had told him. If life wasn’t so fucking difficult to get a foothold on, and he had enough money to spare, he’d probably have tried to become an artist. He did love it, after all, and his mom had always been so supportive of the dream, no matter how silly it had been.

But, you know. Shit happens. He couldn’t really pursue it, now, and it sucked, but that was life. He could get by from other jobs. It wouldn’t be too bad.

 

He watched vacantly as people moved through the halls- a class of eighth graders running through the corridors to head out for Gym Class, and then the teacher following along hurriedly. He spotted the kid- Parker, the science one- running along with all his little buddies. When he looked into the window and spotted Steve staring, he waved excitedly and then pointed him out to all his friends, who stared at him unashamedly and then grinned.

He waved back fondly, rolling his eyes as they all bounded away again a few moments later, pushing and shoving at one another. God only knew how they still had the energy to run around anywhere- still young and full of life, he figured.  
They were only like, two years younger than him, but whatever. The sharp decline in the give-a-fuck-O-meter usually happened halfway through Freshman year, so they still had a bit of time left until all that energy disappeared off the face of the earth.

 

 Two minutes after he’d seen Peter and his classmates pass by, he watched a few other familiar faces as they wandered down the corridor. Not the good kind of familiar, either. The ‘why the fuck are you taking up my line of sight you fuck’ sort of familiar.

He caught eyes with Zeke as he passed by the window, staring uncaringly up at the guy with folded arms. Next to Zeke was Ty and another boy that Steve didn’t recognize, and they all slowed down for a moment, looking at him intently.

Steve didn’t turn down his gaze. He’d never been the first one to back down, ever- probably the cause of 80% of all fights he’d been in, if he was honest.

He watched Ty as his eyes scanned quickly over Steve, before stopping somewhere at his collar. Steve remembered the fact that he was currently sporting Tony’s leather jacket over his usual shirt and jeans, and honestly, it was a dick move, but he winked at Ty anyway. It was just funny to watch the way the asshole’s jaw clenched in irritation.

And if it sent a nice ol’ message to dear Tiberius about who did and who did _not_ get to put their hands on Tony in the foreseeable future, then that was just an added bonus, really.

The group watched him for another few seconds, before Zeke leaned over to Ty and then gestured down the hall again. Shooting Steve one last look, they finally slinked off to wherever they were headed- Steve really wondered if they spent more time skipping than they actually did in lesson.

Pulling out his phone again, he checked the teacher wasn’t looking his way before pulling up Tony’s contact again.

 

 **_Steve Rogers_ ** _: You in class?_

 

 **_Tony Stark_ ** _: Yeah, why?”_

 

He smiled to himself and then covered it with his hand, before sending off a quick _‘no reason’_ and tucking his phone back into the pocket of Tony’s jacket.

 

Interesting. Tony hadn’t gone with them all, that time.

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 _ **Bucky Barnes:** I just got a _ hugeass _bouquet of stupid fancy flowers at my door and I know they're from your stupid fancy boyfriend I can smell the fucking money_ from _my fucking porch_

 _ **Bucky Barnes: I** 'm stepping outside in two seconds and if this is some trick or plan or something I swear to Christ I'm going to kill u _Steve

_**Bucky Barnes:** And your Stupid fancy idiot asshole boyfriend_

 

_**Steve Rogers:** Did you like them?_

 

_**Bucky Barnes:** I'm going to kill your stupid fancy idiot asshole boyfriend_

_**Bucky Barnes** : Worst apology flowers ever._

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was funny, but sometimes Steve forgot he was dating someone famous.

 

It was very easy not to notice when they were alone together. Tony was just… Tony, really, and Steve didn’t think about anything else. Sometimes it crossed his mind how clever Tony was- usually when they were over at his and he was talking to JARVIS or fiddling around with some other invention or having to run off and write another algorithm down. But that was it, really. He didn’t think about the fact that most people were at least somewhat familiar with the name Tony Stark. It wasn’t important.

But then sometimes he’d see Tony on the news when he was passing through the living room, or he’d have to wait around the corner for the paparazzi to leave Tony alone before he was able to see him, and suddenly the reality would hit home a little.

 

“It always gets worse when Howard is releasing a new project,” Tony told him one time, after he’d pulled off his scarf and then wrapped it around Steve’s neck to try and warm him up, “I’m so sorry for keeping you waiting, I just couldn’t shake them-“

Steve brushed it off, because it wasn’t Tony’s fault. He could see how much it worried him- how hard he tried to keep Steve out of it. He’d figured that had been the reason for why Tony didn’t treat him like anything more than a close friend when they were out in public. He just hadn’t wanted Steve to get hounded by the press. It had seemed like the only explanation.

 

Key word being ‘had’.

 

It was stupid, really. He probably should have expected something like this to happen eventually, because he’d always sort of known it would. And it felt kind of stupid and overdramatic, saying it like that in his head- and maybe he was overreacting, maybe it had just been making a fuss over nothing- but Steve couldn't really think about it all that pragmatically in his head, not when he was like this. Not when he got upset. 

 

Tony had been walking in front of him; wandering through the streets of New York with a carefree smile on his face as he pulled Steve through by the hand. He’d been saying something- something about one of the latest papers released on some Spacey Thing Steve hadn’t quite been able to follow- and Steve had just been nodding along encouragingly, all whilst wondering where exactly Tony had been taking them.

It had been going good. Dates with Tony were always good, obviously.

They’d almost made it to the restaurant Tony had been leading them to. Almost, but not quite. Because when they turned the corner and tried to cross the street, Steve heard Tony’s name get called out amongst the general hubbub of the streets, and felt Tony spin next to him.

Steve had watched as Tony focused in on a group of people to their left- five of them, altogether, and not any more than a few years older than him- and then felt with surprise as Tony snatched his hand back and pushed Steve out of his space hurriedly, landing him a solid and safe two feet away.

“Tony!” One of them yelled, hurrying forward. She was wearing a huge fur… thing, and ridiculous pink heels as she scurried over and threw her arms around him, embracing him in a hug that he returned with a laugh. “Tony, what a surprise! Sweetie, it’s been so long! Months and months- God, when was the last time-“

“Six months, if my memory serves correctly,” one of the seemingly older guys said, looking at Tony with a grin as he patted him fondly on the back, “it was near the New Year, when all our families got together for that retreat, right? Nice to see you, Tones. You’ve dropped off the radar a bit recently- we were getting worried.”

“Yeah, we were expecting you at Zeke’s last week, we came all the way down especially!” One of the other girls called, and Steve had to step back as the gaggle of people enveloped Tony from all sides.

Tony laughed at them all, and his gaze flicked over Steve for a moment before he raised an inconspicuous finger, asking him to wait a second. “Yeah, sorry, I’ve just been super swamped lately. I’m actually-“

“Hey, who’s this guy?” Steve turned to the boy speaking, smiling tightly up at him and extending a hand automatically. The boy shook it, although looked at him a little strangely. Probably wasn’t used to kids doing that- he figured it was probably considered old-fashioned.

Tony turned to him for a second- and God, Steve could see the little moment of indecision in the back of his eyes, he watched as Tony opened and shut his mouth a few times-

Then felt it like punch in the gut when Tony smiled back at them and said “Just a friend- Steve.”

 

Right.

 

Because that kind of proved things, didn’t it? These people weren’t paparazzi, they were obviously all buddies- family friends, it sounded like. Tony wasn’t trying to protect Steve from anything here.  
But it _did_ explain why he never acted like he had any feelings for Steve at all whenever he was around those that weren’t in their immediate circle. The quick covering-up of the hickeys and the careful dates that were never to skate rinks or shopping malls, but secluded restaurants or dark movies. And then of course, just now, how Tony had quietly sidestepped around the term ‘boyfriend’, because he was around different people now, right? These people looked expensive. And Steve… well, he was wearing his smart clothes, but they still probably cost about half the price of just one stupid sock on those guys’ feet.

 

It had occurred to him, in that moment, quick but entirely consuming- what Bucky had been saying earlier, and what Steve had always worried about:  
Tony was ashamed of him.

 

It was understandable, to be fair. Steve really wasn’t much. And Tony… well, he quite obviously was. Steve had always known that, from the very first moment of meeting him. Tony was loud and bright and colorful and explosive and he _lived_ \- and then Steve was pretty much the opposite of all that. Tony would have to be absolutely shameless not to feel at least a little bit of embarrassment, walking around with someone like Steve on his arm.

It made sense.

Still hurt a hell of a fucking lot, though.

 

He blinked a few times, a little dazed as they introduced themselves. He got a few names; a Ru’ and a Kathy and an Alex and then they just started blurring, so he tuned out and tried to set his head straight. He didn’t really feel hungry any more, and he knew Tony was trying to catch his eye in between the conversation, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to look.

“-Anyway, we were just heading out to the Royale down near Park Avenue, you heard of it? They do the most amazing Lobster Thermidor, seriously- you two should come. We can catch up, it’ll be fun!” One of them said, and he almost wanted to laugh as he looked down at his shoes- second hand converse that Bucky had given to him three years back when he’d outgrown them- and wondered if they’d even let him in to that restaurant when he looked like that.

 “Oh, actually me and Steve already-“

“Hey, uh,” he cut in on Tony’s sentence, shaking his head jerkily and then glancing at him for a moment before looking down at his feet again, “it’s fine. I have to head home anyway, I feel kinda… yeah. Anyway. You go, uh, catch up with your friends. It’s fine.”

“Steve,” Tony began, and when he dared to look back up again, he saw Tony was staring at him a little helplessly, shaking his head and reaching out for his wrist.

Steve stepped out of the way before he could reach. “I need to… I’ll see you later, Tony.”

“Steve wait-“

He turned on his heel and didn’t look back; pushing through the crowds on the sidewalk quickly and easily. Tony called his name again; although now muffled by the people in between them, it was easier to ignore.

Really, he just needed to go home. It was fine that Tony wanted to hang out with his other friends. It… well, it hurt, that he didn’t want any of them to know he’d sunk as low as dating Steve, but he could live with it. He understood.  
He just needed a bit of time to set his head straight and deal with it, that was all.

It was fine. Really.

 

Stung like fuck, but he was used to that, by now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because it's been a while since I ended on a cliffhanger :)
> 
> **Side Note: Tony's Italian Translated:  
> 'How are you so perfect?'  
> 'What did I do to deserve you?'  
> 'I'm selfish, but I'd do anything to be here with you forever.'


	9. Chapter 9

The night was getting cooler as he finally got home, and he pulled his jacket tighter in on himself, kicking open the door with a heavy boot and then slipping in. Sam heard the door shut, and his head peeked out from the living room, slightly confused. “Steve? What are you doing back so early? Thought you were with Tony?”

He shrugged. “Don’t wanna talk about it.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed, and he stepped further out into the corridor, but Steve just sighed and looked up at him, shooting his friend a weak smile. “Seriously, Sam, don’t worry. I’m fine. It just… didn’t go as planned. But it’s fine. I’m fine. I promise.”

For a moment, it seemed as if Sam might push. But when he saw the closed-off way in which Steve was holding himself, and the firm purse of his lips, he wisely chose not to pursue it. “Okay then,” he nodded, concern flitting briefly across his face, “but I’m gonna be down here for the rest of the night, so if you feel like getting out the icecream and lamenting…”

Steve laughed tiredly, nodding. “I’ll keep it in mind,” he said softly, “thanks, Sam.”

His friend just looked at him worriedly, but ultimately he respected Steve’s wishes as the boy trudged up the stairs, glancing down at his ugly second-hand shoes as he went.

Fuck. He’d definitely overreacted there. Tony wasn’t… he wouldn’t be ashamed of Steve. That just wasn’t the type of person Tony was. Steve knew that; of course he fucking did, and he’d gone and abandoned Tony in the middle of their date anyway. Because he was a selfish asshole like that, obviously.

God, this whole night had been a disaster.

Slumping onto his bed with a sigh, he pulled off his jacket and slung it carelessly into the corner of the room, toeing off his shoes and then hauling them onto the bed heavily. He knew that he wasn’t… he didn’t care about being rich or whatever, but he just wished that sometimes he had enough money to at least _look_ as if he belonged somewhere, you know? And fuck- maybe sometimes it _did_ put him on the defensive, but who could blame him? It was a touchy subject, and one that people had poked at too many times.

He didn’t know why else Tony would have acted like that. He was out, Steve was almost sure of it- pretty much everyone in school knew everything about him, although God knows why, and Tony didn’t exactly try and hide the fact he went for guys too. So there were no other things that Steve could think of as to why Tony would have reacted like that, aside from the fact that… well, that Tony just wasn’t supposed to be seen hanging around with someone like Steve Rogers.

In a sad kind of way, Steve got it. He knew he wasn’t much, not just to look at, but in terms of background and influence and basically everything that Tony lived and breathed. It made a weird sort of sense, that Tony was… well, maybe not ashamed of him, but wary to show him off to the world.

Steve really just didn’t belong with a boy like Tony Stark. That much had been obvious tonight, when Steve had seen the tiniest of glimpses into the sort of circles Tony usually hung out in. Fur coats and Gucci socks and Lobster Thermidor, and what did Steve had to offer in retaliation? He didn’t even have a proper family, for Christ’s sake, and he could barely string the money together to buy a new toothbrush. He and his friends’ ideas of fun was going to hang out at the mall and occasionally shoplifting a candy bar from Walmart if they were all too broke to feed into the Cycle of Capitalism, as Natasha called it, with their own money. That wasn’t exactly the sort of thing a guy like Tony would probably enjoy. Not really. Even though he said he did, when they all hung out together.

Steve shut his eyes and sighed. He was overreacting. This is exactly the sort of thing his therapist had told him not to do. Take a situation and overthink it to apocalyptic proportions, just because it didn’t go the way he’d wanted. _‘Assuming the worst of everyone is only going to bring out the worst version of yourself, more than anyone else,’_ she’d said in her dumb soft voice, looking at him gently as she’d written something else down on her notepad.

God, he hated how right she could be sometimes.

Palming a hand over his eyes, he looked at his clock on the bedside. Since walking off and then moping around, it had been about an hour since he’d left Tony. He should probably call- at least apologize for just walking off like that.

He wanted to know why Tony had said it.

Because that… that had hurt. He hadn’t overthought that- what Tony had implied had been clear. _We can be in a relationship, but just not around the people who matter._ And Steve just wanted to know _why_ , what he was doing wrong here, because he really was trying-

God, he sounded pathetic.

Sitting up slowly, he rolled over and then slid off the bed, moving to his desk. He wanted to take his mind off things for a bit, and his sketchpad looked very appealing right now. It was creasing around the edges, and was a little too cheap for his liking, but he didn’t really have any room for complaint. It was better than handkerchiefs and his own skin, which had been his canvas for most of the year.

Running a hand through his hair, he lost himself in the doodles for a while. Just rough sketches- Bucky and Natasha curled around one another,  the Icecream parlour Steve had taken Tony to that one time, the view out of his window. They weren’t any good, of course- he never really had been, but it still soothed him anyway. It was nice to let his emotions flow out from his head into his fingers, shaky and rough and his.

His fingers traced the lines of Tony’s smile underneath the pencil, and for a moment, he wished he’d never left. Being with Tony, in whatever form, was good enough for him. And since Tony was going to be busy for the next few days, Steve might not see much more of him for a while after tonight- except rather than just take what he could get, he’d gone and stormed off in some pitiful sulk. Maybe that made him pathetic, but he could hardly even care.

He just wanted… he wanted to be _good enough_ for him. That was all.

 “Fuck,” he breathed out, staring up at the ceiling. This was so stupid. He’d known all of this going in, come on, there was no need for him to act all shocked now. He wasn’t anything close to something Tony would want to keep around. And even though, for some absurd reason, Tony did anyway, that didn’t mean that suddenly Tony had to wreck his whole life in order to accommodate Steve into it. Steve didn’t expect that, and if he was in Tony’s position, he wouldn’t want to expose anyone else to someone of Steve’s caliber anyway. He didn’t fit in and he never fucking had-

His phone buzzed in his jacket pocket, and Steve bent over, pulling it from the floor.

It was Tony.

His heart did a little spasm in his chest, and he sighed, thumb hovering over the answer button for a few seconds before he pressed down on it. Might as well get it over with now- the excuse, the apology Tony had undoubtedly already prepared. Steve would accept it, of course he would. It was _Tony_. And Steve was… Steve.

“Hey,” he said softly, shutting his eyes and swallowing.

Tony didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and then Steve head a shuffling on the other end of the line. “Hey, so, don’t freak out.”

Instantly, a small part of Steve began to freak out. “What?” He asked, sitting up straighter. “Tony, what is it? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry.” He sounded okay- maybe a little out of breath, but that was it. “Can you open your window?”

Steve blinked, before turning around and looking toward the back of his room. He promptly choked on his own tongue and yelled in surprise when he saw-

“Tony, what the _fuck_ are you doing sat outside my window?” He bolted forward, panicked- his window was on the second floor, if Tony fell, he was fucked. Tony didn’t seem to look too worried though; he turned a little, smiling sheepishly at Steve as he waved with one hand and kept the phone tucked into his cheek with the other.

Steve grabbed the frame of the window and pulled upward, clutching Tony by the coat before he could slip off and fall. “Are you out of your mind?” Steve hissed, “what if you’d fallen? How did you even get _up there?”_

Tony huffed as Steve yanked him backward, until his back hit the bed directly underneath it. He looked up at Steve bashfully. “Uh- okay, so I know this seems really creepy now I’m thinking about it, but I swear, my intentions were innocent here.”

“And your intentions _were?”_

Tony shrugged, his cheeks just going the slightest shade of pink. “I… uh, I thought you might all be asleep? I didn’t want to wake your whole family by ringing the doorbell at midnight.”

That threw Steve for a loop. He checked the clock, and then raised his eyebrows in surprise. Wow. He’d been doodling for a longer time than he’d thought.

But still. “You couldn’t have just- y’know- called me?” He asked, waving his hands through the air.

Tony ran anxious fingers through his hair. “Didn’t want to wake you either,” he mumbled, “figured I’d go up and just… check whether or not you were awake? It made sense at the time.”

Steve stared at him for a moment, before shutting his eyes and sighing. “Considering you’re a genius, Tony, you can be a fucking idiot.”

“I know, I know!” Tony sat up suddenly and then shuffled around, crossing his legs and leaning forward on his elbows as his fingers interlocked underneath his chin. He looked up at Steve with his stupid puppy eyes, and Steve just rolled his own when Tony started to pout. “It’s all a part of my charm.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Steve huffed and then poked him in the forehead, pushing him away with a half-hidden smile. “Just tell me why you climbed up my drainpipe at 12 at night, Tony.”

The other boy stopped, and then swallowed and looked down at his knees. The light-heartedness of his manner dropped away, revealing the true anxiety underneath, and suddenly Steve was looking at a boy much smaller than he seemed. “You were mad at me, because I’m an asshole and I told my friends that you were- I didn’t tell them what you really were to me. And it upset you. And I wanted to explain.”

Steve felt something twist uncomfortably in his gut, and he pursed his lips. “I get it,” he said softly “don’t worry Tony. Honestly. I- I mean, it was… I can see your reasoning, that’s all.”

Tony blinked. “Really?”

“Well, yeah,” Steve shrugged, looking out into the window. “I’d… they’re a different type of person to me, aren’t they? Different worlds. I’m- I’m just not enough for that, and it’s okay, I wouldn’t ask you to embarrass yourself-“

“Whoah, whoah,” Tony grabbed his shoulders and leaned in, his face suddenly deeply concerned as he flexed his hands against Steve’s shoulders and looked down at him. “What do you think happened back there, Steve?”

He just shrugged, picking at a hangnail to try and find something to do with his hands. “Well. You don’t want to be- y’know- seen with me? Around your richer friends. Which is… I _get it_ , you know, I’m not-“

He was cut off by the hard press of Tony’s hand against his mouth, and was pushed into an upright position when Tony tilted his head up and looked at him deeply, a horrified expression on his face. His brow was furrowed so deeply that Steve could’ve stuck a coin between the creases. “What?” He whispered, shaking his head wildly, “Steve, _no_. No way. Never. Why the hell would you- Jesus, no, _fuck_ , do you really think I’d…” He broke off, looking more than a little heartbroken, and Steve suddenly realised how bad that must have sounded to Tony, who was always so worried about Steve thinking the worst of him. If, somewhere along the line, Steve _had_ in fact got his wires crossed and there _had_ in fact been an ulterior motive behind Tony’s actions, then it meant Tony wasn’t going to have taken that statement very well.

So Steve shook his head, pulling Tony’s hands from his own face and then clutching his bony fingers around it. “It’s not something I’d hold you to if you did, that’s all,” he hurried to assure, “I just- you know, they were all wearing fur and talking about lobster, and that’s not- it’s not a place I belong, and it’s a different sort of setting, and so I just… I mean I guess you could have warned me, because it was kinda painful to have that happen out of left field, but I mean, at the end of the day I know that I’m not-“

Tony kissed him.

Steve blinked, taking a moment to process the sharp turn of events. Before he could sink into it, though, Tony broke away quickly, fingers trailing up Steve’s neck and then cupping his jaw between both his hands.

“If you were about to tell me you’re ‘not good enough for that’, or anything along those lines, I’m going to throw myself right back out of that window,” Tony jerked his head to the left, crossed legs bumping Steve’s when he moved. He shook his head again, sighing and knocking his forehead gently against Steve’s as he glanced downward and then closed his eyes. “Sweetheart, I promise, I _promise_ you it wasn’t because of that. I would _never_ be ashamed of you. Not around them, not around anyone. _Ever_. You are…you are the last thing that I would ever feel any sort of embarrassment or shame toward. You’re the damn smartest decision I’ve ever made. Why the fuck would I ever regret that, or want to hide it? That’s the fucking thing-“

He broke away, hands leaving Steve’s face in order to flex angrily in his lap. He looked back out to the window, face tight. “I _don’t_ want to hide it, Steve,” Tony’s voice was soft as he glanced back, “ever. I promise, that’s not what it was. But I- I just… it’s so complicated.”

Steve watched him as Tony clenched his jaw and waited until the boy was ready to speak again. He wasn’t quite sure what to say to fill the silence.

When Tony looked over to him, his face was pained, like the words hurt. “I’m out. But I’m not out in those circles. I’m bi. But I’m not bi in their eyes. Not in Howard’s eyes. Jheeze- in Howard’s eyes, his son would never do something as disgusting as that. He turns his head and looks the other way when he sees the blurry paparazzi shots. And I never, _ever_ mention it. Or imply I’d ever be serious with another boy. That- if he knew about _you_? About me being in a real, full-blown relationship with another guy, as opposed to just some drunken making out in the corner of a dark club?” Tony shrugged helplessly, eyes nervous. “I don’t know what he’d do.”

Steve swallowed, suddenly feeling absolutely awful. God, he’d just gone and assumed the worst of Tony automatically, not even bothering to take into account Tony’s reasons. Fuck. He’d made a mess of this.

“Those friends- I didn’t say what you were, not because I’m ashamed of you, but because they operate in the same circles that Howard does.” Tony’s face hardened. “And the less he knows about you, the better. I can’t… I can’t risk that, Steve, you have to understand-“

“Hey, yeah, God, of course I do,” Steve whispered, pulling Tony’s hand tighter around his own and then dropping his head forward, falling into the base of Tony’s neck. “I’m sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t think, I just took one fact and then ran with it, but this- this is completely understandable, okay, I didn’t mean to be an asshole.”

Tony laughed, shaking his head. “You weren’t an asshole, Steve, I’m pretty sure that’s how most people would have responded. You had no reason to think I wasn’t just out to everyone- there’s enough evidence to tell the whole world. Thing is- the world I live in, outside of you, and outside of school- it runs on a sort of ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy. Howard doesn’t ask. I don’t tell. But if he ever caught wind that there was someone serious… it wouldn’t be great.”

Steve shut his eyes. He hated this. He hated knowing what Tony went home to, every day. The so-called-world that Tony lived in outside of Steve didn’t sound like it was too great a place to be, honestly. Maybe on the surface, the Gucci slippers and gold-flecked vodka was pretty good, but when you delved a little further down, you started to notice the rot in the corners of it all.

“I’m sorry,” Steve mumbled, kissing Tony’s throat tentatively, “I just- I’m good at always thinking the worst. Character flaw, I’ll admit.”

Tony chuckled softly, and his hand came to rest at the base of Steve’s neck, curling the little hairs that lay there. “I’m sorry too,” he admitted, “I should have warned you. I just… God, I just wanted to expose you to as little of that part of my life as possible. Thought I’d never need to warn you about it, because you’d just never interact with them. This was a dumb thing to think. I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“You didn’t-“

“Intentional or not, I did,” Tony tilted his head to the side and then kissed Steve’s temple. “I’m sorry my life is so messy. I wish I didn’t have to put that on you.”

“This isn’t your fault either,” Steve murmured, “this is because your dad is a piece of shit on legs.”

Tony laughed again, and God, Steve just loved that sound so much. He wanted to bottle it. Tony’s whole face lit up when he laughed properly. They were both quiet for a few moments after that- Steve could feel Tony’s gaze wander around the room, stilling on the desk where Steve’s papers and doodles were strung messily. There was a catch in Tony’s throat, almost as if he was about to say something, but at the last moment he refrained, just squeezing Steve tighter. They’d shuffled up against the wall, and Steve had left his head just underneath Tony’s neck, breathing in the smell of Tony’s smoke-tainted jacket, his faint tang of cologne, the underlying _Tonyness_ that had so fast become like home to Steve.

“I’m sorry for bailing on you like that,” Steve said after a period of quiet, “were you alright with them?”

Tony shrugged underneath him. “They’re a good bunch. Some of the ones I can actually tolerate, you know. We used to have some fun, back when I usually hung out with them, But I missed you. I’d been expecting a date, and then it all kind of fell through.”

Steve felt himself blush. “My bad,” he whispered, and Tony laughed again, his hands reached around Steve’s neck and pulling his head upward before kissing him, quick and messy from both of their grins.

“I’d say you could make it up to me, but I’m guessing your walls are pretty thin, and as much as I’d love to put Wilson through something as traumatic as that, it’s not quite the impression I want to make on his parents,” Tony mumbled against Steve’s mouth, his hands dropping from Steve’s neck to his chest, pushing him down until he was lying flat-out on the bed.

Steve pouted. “We can be quiet.”

“Baby, no offence, but when the fuck am I quiet in anything ever?”

“…Fair point.” Steve grinned wickedly, and then surged up suddenly, catching Tony’s mouth. “I could keep your mouth busy though,” he offered, which seemed to briefly throw Tony off for a moment as he sucked in a sharp breath, but then he blinked back into it and Steve yelped quietly when Tony huffed and flicked him sharply on the forehead.

“Don’t tempt me, Rogers, I’m trying to be responsible here.”

Tony pulled away before Steve could retaliate, smiling dopily down at Steve like they’d just done way more than share a kiss. But his face sobered a little when he took Steve’s hand on the bed and squeezed, swallowing down a lump in his throat.

“I’m getting out of there soon,” he promised quietly, “and then I’m going to take you everywhere, Steve, I promise.”

He imagined what it would be like for Tony, to be able to go out on the streets, hand in hand with Steve, kiss him around whoever he wanted to and never have to worry that something terrible would happen because of it. “What’s your plan?” Steve asked quietly, sitting up and leaning his elbows onto his knees, staring intently up at Tony. Because Tony was a genius, and Tony would have a plan. Of course he would have a plan.

Tony grinned. “I know a guy. This old dude called Yinsen, met him at a science convention a while back, it’s kinda complicated. But I’ve been going over and fixing shit for him for years now. He’s a landlord for a block of apartments down in lower Manhattan, and I do him favours whenever he needs them, and in return he hooks me up with more contacts, usually MIT people or buddies in the engineering field. Sometimes he just invites me round for dinner though. As you can see, I’ve been planning this escape for a while now,” Tony wiggled his eyebrows cheekily, and then rubbed his hands together in glee. “But he’s… he’s a good guy. One of the most genuine people I know. And he knows, kinda, what’s going on with Howard. So he offered to give me one of the flats in his apartment complex, with a stupidly low rent. It’s kinda shitty, and small, but it’ll do. And in return, I’ll act as his on-site handyman.”

Steve smiled, but then it turned into a small frown. “But- Tony, you can’t buy a place until you’re eighteen unless you get your parents’ permission, right?”

All he got was a shrug. “Yinsen will keep it under wraps. I’ve got a fake ID anyway, so technically I’d be Anthony Carbonell, a nineteen-year-old student. It’d be okay. I could do it. I know I could.”

Steve felt the flicker of anxiety at the risk Tony would be taking with that, but he couldn’t ultimately disagree with it. He didn’t want Tony anywhere near Howard. “So when are you going to get out?” He asked breathlessly.

That’s when Tony’s face seemed to drop a little. “Well… it’s not easy is it? I- I don’t want to unless it’s a last option. And I’m not… right now, I don’t have a lot of prospects, so getting a job would be hard, and, well, y’know-“ Tony shrugged, before looking down and tugging at his ear. “I’m scared,” he mumbled.

Steve laughed, and for a moment Tony looked hurt, but then Steve just shook his head and pressed his hand into the side of Tony’s face. “Tony, darling, of _course_ you’re scared. You’re talking about running from home and leaving your whole life, everything you know, all semblance of stability behind in the dirt. If you weren’t scared, I’d be fucking terrified of you.”

He leaned up, kissing Tony’s forehead. “But whatever you do, you have me. And if anyone could pull it off, I know it’s you. You’re the smartest guy I know. You’re resourceful. You have contacts and friends everywhere. You could make it. I absolutely believe that.”

Tony’s eyes widened a little, and he rolled the words over his lips faintly a few times before asking, “really?”

In his mind, Sarah Rogers popped up in his vision, her warm hand on a 7-year-old Steve’s shoulder.   
_‘Sometimes, the thing that makes a difference between Doing or Dying is a simple show of faith. Make them think they can, Steve, and they will.’_

“Of course I do,” he whispered, smiling gently, “there’s nothing I _don’t_ think you can do.”

Tony looked back at him, a depth to his eyes that made Steve feel as if he’d said something that Tony probably hadn’t heard in a long time. Steve eased the shock with a few short kisses to his cheeks, and then tried to pull Tony back so he could lie down, but the other boy didn’t move.

“I have to go, Steve.”

“You can stay the night, can’t you?”

Tony groaned quietly in despair, eyes shutting as he grabbed Steve’s hands and then pulled them away from his jacket, a pout on his mouth. “I can, and I would very much _like_ to, but you are absolutely insane if you think I have the self restraint to keep my hands to myself if I am in the same bed as you.” Tony sighed, shaking his head sadly. “I am only human, Steven.”

Steve huffed, falling back into the bed as Tony pushed himself up and then- “wait, Tony, what are you doing?”

Tony was, in fact, stepping back up onto the windowsill, shuffling back under the window and then grabbing onto the ledge with firm fingers. “I’m leaving?” He said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but grinned cheekily when Steve shot him an incredulous look.

“You do realize I can just open the fucking door for you, right?”

Tony shrugged, running a hand through his wild hair and then winking. “Well where the hell is the fun in that, Steve Rogers?” He asked, before hopping off the ledge, his hands curling around the drainpipe that ran beside Steve’s wall. Steve just watched, coughing out a shocked bark of laughter as he surged forward and stuck his head out of the window whilst Tony scuttled down the wall as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

“You’re mad,” Steve called down after him, voice tinged with laughter.

Tony looked back up at him and beamed. “Absolutely,” he said, before leaping off in the last few feet and landing like a cat. Perfectly. He turned around and then looked up to Steve’s window, before blowing a kiss. “Love you!” He said, and then scampered off down the road, leaving Steve laughing incredulously in the window up above him. He kept laughing, in fact, right up until Tony was long gone, and the sound of his motorbike had drifted off into the night.

Jesus. He was in love with an idiot.

(A beautiful idiot, though.)

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

The following few days were spent in a blur of dates, quiet nights in and stolen kisses, Tony’s smile at the forefront of Steve’s mind for pretty much every moment of it. Steve knew that it was Tony’s way of trying to make it up to him for the kind of disastrous date of earlier, and as much as he tried to tell Tony that it was okay, it had just been a misunderstanding, Tony seemed not to hear it. He was excellent at selective hearing, as Steve was finding out; although he’d had to put his foot down when Tony had tried to invite him along to a night spent with all the friends that they’d both met on the street that one time. Tony had seemed desperate to try and prove that it hadn’t been shame that had motivated him, but Steve refused to put that risk on Tony’s shoulders. Those were the friends that made life more difficult for Steve, and he wanted no part in making that any worse.

“It’s fine,” he’d whispered, shaking his head in assurance, “I promise, Tony, it’s just my shitty head that blew it all up out of proportion. You don’t have to do this.”

“But I want to,” Tony had whined, and he’d looked so frustrated as he’d bowed his head and then sighed, “I want to, Steve, _so_ bad, I don’t want you to be something I have to keep hidden. Not from anyone.”

Steve understood, even though he’d never had the same problem. There had only been three people whose opinions he’d really given half a shit about, and he’d known the moment he’d come out to them that they wouldn’t have even batted an eyelid to it. But the thought of having to hide that part of himself, even if it was just occasionally, made his stomach turn uncomfortably.

But Tony didn’t get a choice, and there was absolutely no part of Steve that had wanted to push him toward outing himself to anyone, so eventually Tony had admitted defeat on that front, and his other friends had remained oblivious to Tony’s relationship with Steve. Which was for the best. And now at least Steve knew the reasons behind Tony’s occasionally weird behaviour.

He was happy- God, _more_ than happy- exactly where he was.

 

The days at school seemed to pass by with remarkable speed, and before Steve knew it, November had swung around, littering Steve’s day with sharp breezes and generally shitty weather. He didn’t particularly mind about it- he’d always loved the rain, and baggy sweaters were exactly his kind of style. It also inspired him into drawing more; he was never sure what exactly brought about that change when the colder months came along, but this year he was going to take advantage of it. Tony’s proposal- the one Steve should really have disregarded months ago- still hung somewhere in the back of his mind, and he thought of it occasionally. Entering into a competition like that would be about as useful as throwing a piece of art into a literal void and just hoping someone caught it- but no matter how many self-deprecating thoughts Steve had on the matter, there was always a niggling _what-if_ that kept him from completely scrapping the idea.

Tony had seemed so positive he’d have a chance.  And that- the idea that there was someone who was so unwaveringly faithful in his ability to achieve something like that… it made him just want to try. Just see if he could prove Tony right, that he _could_ do something, that he _wasn’t_ completely useless.

He sighed, buttoning his coat all the way up to the throat and then ducking his head against the piercing November wind. His therapist was always giving him shit for thinking like that. She said he had some extreme self esteem issues, and he could hardly disagree. God, just look at him- there were 12 year old girls taller than him, and he got sick so often he had barely been in enough of school to learn basic math. He was hardly anything-

“Stop it,” he told himself firmly, before the thoughts could spiral any further. His hands flexed minutely in his pocket at the same time his jaw clenched, and he wished, not for the first time that week, that Bucky was around. He’d been feeling kind of low- possibly brought about by the colder weather and shorter nights- but Bucky had gone away on a trip, and wasn’t going to be back until next Sunday. Which sort of sucked.

It was okay though. It was manageable.

Anyway. He had other people too, which was where he was headed right then, actually. Thor had invited Steve and all his friends over for the night, and everyone was going. Natasha would probably be sulky for most of it, seeing as her boyfriend wasn’t going to be available to engage in any heavy petting with her, but Steve didn’t doubt she’d get over it.

Anyway. That was hardly Steve’s problem. Tony was going, so he was fine.

With a small grin to himself, he pressed the button at the front of the big door, and waited to be buzzed in. Thor’s house was grand as well- although admittedly, not quite as extravagant as Tony. He lived in an apartment complex, but not the sort that Steve had used to inhabit. These obviously reeked of money. Steve had seen a fucking pool when he’d been walking up- the thought of having one of those just lounging around his home was just absurd to him, but whatever. Just how the other half lived, he figured.

There was a crackling noise, and then Thor’s booming voice came over the intercom. “Steve!” He cheered, whilst a few other voices joined in the chorus. “Come on up, I’m on the top floor.”

Steve grinned, and then pushed the door open with his shoulder before slicking back his windswept hair into something more manageable. Some of the residents shot him funny looks as he walked through the pristine marble floors with his ratty coat and beat-up sneakers, but he just smiled at them. Figured they needed a bit of joy in their otherwise uptight and miserable lives.

When he got to Thor’s apartment, the door was already open, and he could hear the sounds of all his friends inside. It brought a smile to his face, and he snuck in quietly, letting the door close behind him and then taking in the scene around him.

Thor’s place was massive. It was incredibly stylish, too; full of grand oak furniture and open-plan space. There was a huge fireplace on the back wall, and an even larger TV that stood tall in the middle of a bundle of soft couches and chairs. That was where all his friends were- although they didn’t appear to be sitting on them like normal folk tended to.

Steve leaned against the counter nearby, folding his arms and smiling in bemusement as he watched Thor rush off into the corner of the room, grab a long pillow from one of the windowsills, and then toss it over to Clint, who caught it easily and then pushed it into a crack in the apparent mound of pillows, blankets and bits of furniture. Peggy was stood on the coffee table, pointing people to places and eating a pack of chips with her spare hand. Then there was Clint and Tony, both on their knees and adding various blankets and pillows to the pyramid. Natasha was nowhere to be seen, but Steve would bet his bottom dollar that he’d find her inside the mound, with a pile of snacks, watching the TV as it played _Clueless_ for them all.

Peggy, because she was at the best angle, spotted him first. Her face broke into a smile, and she waved. “Just in time, Steve!” She said, “we’ve nearly finished construction.

Like a meerkat, Steve watched Tony’s head pop up, hair falling in messy strands over his face and sticking out at random angles. He too, smiled brightly, and extended a hand out across the room. “Steve!” He exclaimed, “we’re building a pillow fort!”

“I can see that, babe,” Steve answered in amusement, shucking off his jacket and then wandering forward. He wound his hand through Tony’s when he arrived at his destination, and felt the tug when Tony pulled him into a quick kiss of greeting. “This certainly looks… professional.”

“Yeah, Tony’s apparently a whiz at engineering, he’s been giving us tips on how to keep it structurally sound this whole time,” Clint told him, punching Steve’s arm lightly as his own form of greeting.

Steve raised a small, knowing eyebrow over to Tony. “Oh, who would’ve thought?” He asked, smiling. Tony just rolled his eyes and then leaned into him as Steve got down on his haunches, looking at the giant mound of cotton and softness that pretty much towered over them. “How does a house even have this many fucking pillows?” He asked Thor incredulously.

The boy just shrugged. “My mom likes fancy beds. But I had to strip the entire house of its furnishings, pretty much.” Thor grinned, and then bounded forward like an enthusiastic puppy, grabbing Steve’s face and kissing his forehead soundly. Steve just blinked, accepting it as Just A Thor Thing by that point.

“He’s had a bit too much mead,” Tony leaned forward and whispered to him, before punching Thor in the knee. “Back off, you absolute man-whore.”

In response, Thor whirled around and then leaned down, kissing Tony on the forehead as well. “Now it is even,” he declared, and then turned away again, wandering off to the kitchen, presumably for more snacks. Tony just sighed and smiled at Steve

Altogether, Steve could see eight other people in the room. Clint, Bruce and Nat, Sam and Peggy, Sharon and Jan, and of course, Tony, sat next to him and bumping his shoulder. It was loud and bustling, and although he knew they had all not been there for any more than an hour, the whole place already looked as if it had been turned upside down.

Steve felt warm at the sight of it all, and he smiled when Jane passed him and randomly tossed a packet of chips in his direction. There were about 20 packs stacked in her hands- Steve guessed she had been Thor’s helper in the delivery of the snacks.

“Okay, I declare the fort fit for use,” Peggy said, jumping down from the table and shaking her hair from her face. “Everyone get in, and that’s an order.”

“How come Nat got to stay in even when it _wasn’t_ fit for use?” Bruce asked as he dived into the gap at the front of the mound.

“Because my boyfriend is in a place so shitty that we can’t even sext, you goddamn heartless bitch!” Natasha’s muffled voice called out from inside the fort.

Steve chuckled and got to his feet, hand locking with Tony’s as they both wandered to the entrance on the other side. Getting to his knees, Steve crawled into the entrance, framed by what appeared to be a stack of books, and then his mouth dropped open.

It was built like a sort of tent, with sheets that knotted into one another strung up like a pyramid, all the way to what looked like the light fitting in the roof. They’d found fairy lights from somewhere, and they were hanging down in the middle like vines, lighting the place up in a golden glow. The floor was a fluffy red rug, but there were so many pillows and beanbags in the middle that Steve could hardly see it at all. The pillow on the outside seemed simply to be insulation for the main blanket-tent, blocking out any of the light or view of the outside world.

Someone poked him, and he blinked, quickly moving out of the way so more people could get in. At his side, Tony was chuckling. “Good, huh?”

“I’ve never seen so much effort put into a blanket fort before,” Steve said, awed. The biggest fort he’d made had been using the furniture in his living room, and he’d been seven. It had consisted of one blanket and a handful of pillows. “How did you make the blankets keep their shape?”

“We glued them to the floor,” Natasha informed him, as she tossed an M&M into the air and then caught it between her teeth.

Steve made a humming noise. “That doesn’t sound sensible,” he said.

“Oh, absolutely not,” and that time it was Thor answering as he dived headfirst into the fort, “if my mom caught wind of what I was doing to her furniture, she’d cut my hair off in my sleep. Luckily, she’s currently in Oslo, so…” Thor just shrugged, lying back and resting his head in his hands. “Until then, we’re good.”

Steve opened his mouth to respond, but ultimately decided to just let it be. If Thor wanted glue his furniture to the floor, who was Steve to judge? Instead, he simply shook his head, smiled, and then slouched into Tony’s side, making himself comfortable there.

The whole group ended up squashed together, a pile of limbs and colour and pillows as they all stared up at the giant TV they could see through the entrance of the fort. A young Paul Rudd insulted Cher as she discussed something undoubtedly shallow, but in all honesty, Steve wasn’t paying much attention to the screen. Inside the fort, everyone was too caught up in a heated debate over the validity of pineapple on pizza, with Clint, Nat and Tony firmly on the Pro-Team, and the rest of them all yelling various profanities and cursing their existence for having that opinion.

“You have NO IDEA what kind of blasphemy you are speaking of right now!” Sam bellowed to Natasha, waving his finger in the air furiously. “How could you, traitor? I thought you were _good!”_

On the other end of the fort, Tony and Bruce were engaged in what sounded like a highly scientific conversation, talking about carbohydrate levels and the sweet/ savory balance of a topping. Steve, meanwhile, was teaming up with Peggy and choosing to use guerrilla warfare in order to subdue Clint- the constant barrage of peanut shells at his head was going to wear him down soon, and when it did, team Pineapple-Should-Die would be victorious-

“Hey, look, as long as we have at least one genius dude on our team, then our opinion can be backed up by scientific fact and you can all shut the fuck up!” Natasha declared, waving a hand over to Tony, who turned his head and looked to her with a nod of agreement.

Peggy patted Steve’s shoulder and grinned. “Change his mind, Steven,” she asked him sweetly, and Steve set his eyes on Tony, whose smile dropped comically off his face as he shook his head and raised a hand of warning.

“No no, Rogers, don’t you dare-“

But Steve was already diving across the pillows and bean bags, hands grabbing Tony’s jacket and then tugging him in before he could say another word. Kissing him hard and fast, Steve let his tongue slide into Tony’s mouth and ran a hand through the curls in his hair, before stroking his fingers gently over the back of his neck in a way Steve knew made Tony weak at the knees. Tony kissed back immediately, utterly unable to stop himself, and Steve positively glowed with it.

When he broke away, Tony looked slightly dazed, before he blinked and then looked back around to the others. “Pineapple on pizza is man’s greatest sin,” he said with a shrug, “sorry guys.”

Natasha and Clint both gasped in betrayal, before narrowing their eyes over at Steve. “That was cheating,” Clint said accusingly.

Steve just waved a hand, leaning further into Tony’s side. “All’s fair in love and war, buddy,” he declared, which earned him a pillow to the face.

By the early hours of the morning, they’d all settled down into their pajamas, still surrounded by warmth and pillows and food, and Steve hadn’t drunk a drop, but he still felt buzzed. Tony’s thumb rubbed a warm circle across his wrist, and they were tangled in a mess of limbs on the biggest, brightest beanbag in the front of the fort. _Friends_ was currently playing on the TV, although again, most weren’t truly focused on it. Sam was snoozing gently, Natasha and Clint were punching eachother as hard as they could and seeing who chickened out first, and Thor and Jane were busy copping a feel at the back of the fort where they thought no one could see.

Steve smiled into Tony’s neck, and the other boy felt it. “What?” he asked softly, mouth moving against Steve’s forehead.

Steve just shut his eyes, sinking further into the softness of Tony’s faded Guns ‘N’ Roses t-shirt. He curled his fingers around Tony’s, his small and bony ones being nearly entirely encompassed by Tony’s long and agile ones.

“Nothin’,” he murmured, kissing behind Tony’s ear, “jus’ love you.”

Tony stilled for a moment, but then Steve felt the scrape of teeth across his temple, and knew that Tony was smiling above him. His hand squeezed around Steve’s, and he shifted his body so it was just that little bit closer. “Love you too.”  
  
Steve felt the warmth explode in his heart at the words, and he knew Tony had said them before, but still. They’d never been spoken with such seriousness, such genuine intent before. It was so… it was so much, to imagine that not only was Steve loved, but Steve was loved by Tony. The boy that the rest of the world had given up on, who was known for never staying around- _that_ was the person who loved Steve. _That_ was the person that, of course, Steve had gone and fallen head over heels for.

His mom had always said he’d been good at sniffing out trouble.

There was the sound of a door opening outside of the pillow fort, and Steve sat up suddenly, but Tony just shook his head. “Loki,” he murmured, shooting Thor a look. “Bet he’s gonna find this very-“

“-Dear God, Thor, did you smoke crack again?”

Thor arose from his tomb of blankets and sweet wrappers, turning to face the voice whose owner was obscured by the wall of blankets. “No, but I _did_ steal your pillows.”

“Well I fucking want them back, I want to go to sleep.”

“I’ll pay you twenty bucks to just curl up on the floor.”

There was a short silence, and then a huff. “Whatever. Fine. But I want the money.” Shoes tapped along the wooden floors quickly, and Thor suddenly scrambled for the entrance, a small frown on his face.

“You’re not allowed to buy drugs with it!” He yelled to Loki’s turned back, and Steve didn’t hear any response, so he assumed that Thor had just been ignored. Tony rolled his eyes, and when Thor came back in looking like someone had just kicked a puppy in front of him, Steve felt the movement of Tony’s arm as it reached out and patted the other boy on the back.

“He’s fine,” Tony told him, “I know you don’t think it, but he can look after himself.”

“Tell that to the pockmarks on his arms from where he shot up last night in a drug den,” Thor snapped, before just raising his hands in defeat and sighing. “Sorry. Sorry. Let’s not talk about my wayward brother tonight, hmm? I’ll yell at him tomorrow. For now!” He raised his sippy cup (Steve didn’t even want to know why he had that in his house) full of mead and then beamed. “Let us drink and be merry!”

Steve grinned. Thor was beginning to talk like he was medieval again. He raised his own glass off diet coke into the air with him, and Thor clinked their beakers together roughly, which, of course, meant that half of the contents of Steve’s drink ended up all over his face. “Wow,” he said, unimpressed, “thanks, Thor.”

Tony just laughed next to him, and Steve turned with a look of betrayal, wiping the droplets of his chin and then flicking them at Tony’s face. In retaliation, Tony dove forward and licked a strip up Steve’s neck and across his jaw, cleaning off any remaining coke, which… you know, was hardly a punishment, so Steve wasn’t going to try and fight back against that one. He just laughed, and then whoopsie, they were making out again.

“Get a room!” Peggy yelled, whilst Tony got a pillow in the back of the head from Peggy. Steve was half tempted to take Tony and do exactly that, but Tony broke off before he could suggest it, and threw the pillow right back in Peggy’s face, which of course, ended up in full-scale war.

The fort withheld for another three minutes, until Bruce rugby-tackled Tony through the center and into the blanket-wall, bringing the whole contraption down on top of them all. There was a lot of screaming as they were all suddenly crushed by pillows and sheets, and Steve’s asthma meant he could hardly even breathe, but he was still laughing as he stuck his head up out of the mound and then untangled some sweet wrappers from his hair.

“You bastards ruined my blanket fort!” Tony screamed from the other end of the room where he and Bruce had rolled. Steve had to agree with Tony on that one: their hard hour’s work was currently lying in a broken heap all around the room, with various limbs owned by various people sticking out underneath it all. Tony looked a second away from restarting his wrestling match with Bruce in retaliation for his destruction of Tony’s precious fort, so Steve quickly intervened by sitting on him. Which seemed to do the job, because Tony settled himself to simply glaring mutinously across the room whilst his fingers wound themselves around Steve’s waist.

“They ruined my blanket fort,” he said again a few minutes later, and when Steve turned back to look at him, Tony was staring at him with an adorable pout on his face. “I _liked_ that fort. I put my heart and soul into that fort.”

“We can make a new fort?” Steve said, looking around the room questioningly, but all his other friends just groaned and waved tired hands. They hadn’t moved from the areas in which they’d all been trapped by the cave-in, and so all around the room people were simply lounging around, half-buried and too tired to care. Steve glanced at his watch, and realized with surprise that it was 3am. They’d been messing around for hours, and he had barely even realized.

“I think we are just going to accept defeat on this one and go the fuck to sleep,” Sam said, and when Steve looked over, he saw that his friend had wrapped himself up in a blanket so tightly it looked like a genuine cocoon. “I have work in the morning, you bitches.”

“We didn’t make you come,” Peggy pointed out, tossing a marshmallow into the air and catching it between her teeth.

“Shut it, Carter.”

“Make me, bird boy.”

Sam made to move, and got as far as sitting up before stopping and then just giving up with a small shrug of defeat, lying back down again. That seemed to be the general mood of the whole room- everyone was suddenly exhausted, and Steve could feel his own eyelids drooping too.

They fell into a comfortable silence after that, a few of them dropping straight off to sleep amongst the pillows. Steve heard Thor’s loud snoring as he spread himself out like a starfish and smushed melted chocolate into his cheek. The only person who still looked relatively perky was Peggy, who was still throwing marshmallows into the air and catching them, perfectly content to do that all on her own until she drifted off as well. Steve himself was lying on Tony’s chest, his cheek pressed over the other boy’s heartbeat and his eyes shut, dozing lazily. He could feel Tony’s fingers brush over the skin of his arms, and they felt somewhat like drawings- equations, perhaps- but Steve was too sleepy to pin them down, and it felt nice. Tony’s touch was always so gentle.

“Hey,” Tony said after a minute, his breath ghosting across Steve’s hair as he tilted his head downward.

Steve pulled his eyes open and looked up, stifling a yawn with his hand. He probably looked like shit: his hair was all over the place, and Tony’s jacket had undoubtedly left creases all over his cheek- but still, Tony was looking at him with that soft, open look in his eyes, and it sent the now-familiar buzz of butterflies shooting down his stomach and into the tips of his toes, making them curl under his socks. Tony grinned down at him, and his fingers tugged playfully at the horizontal piece of Steve’s bangs that refused to lay flat. “You have never looked hotter, Steve,” he declared quietly, a playful gleam to his eyes.

Steve huffed, forehead falling back into Tony’s chest. “Obviously,” he muttered, “the bedhead look is in right now.”

Tony chuckled, and Steve felt the stretch of his neck as he lay back against the cushions and looked at the ceiling. They fell into another comfortable silence, and Steve was mere seconds away from falling properly into sleep when Tony spoke again.

“So I reapplied to MIT.”

For a moment, the words simply buzzed around in the back of Steve’s brain, but then when they settled in and actually absorbed, Steve suddenly felt himself jerk his head up, looking at Tony with huge, wide eyes. “What?” he hissed, a little too loudly, because someone swore at him from over to his left, and a marshmallow went flying into the back of his head. He blinked, and then said in a quieter tone, “Tony, are you serious?”

The other boy swallowed a little nervously, but he smiled. “Yeah,” he said, “I just… you know, I fucked up on the first time ‘round, yeah, but- I’m older now, and I’m going to have to go to college somewhere after this shitshow we call highschool is over, so I figured I might as well, you know? I don’t… I probably won’t get in, not when they have my records, but I know some of the professors and they kind of understood, at the time, why I was pulling the shit I was and-“ he broke off, taking a quick breath and then shrugging. When he looked back to Steve, there was something unquestionably grateful in his bright blue eyes. “You made me think I wasn’t quite such a failure,” he murmured, fingers brushing back Steve’s hair again, “that maybe I could… be who I am. Do what I actually enjoy. Or something.”

Steve was struck dumb by the weight of Tony’s words, mouth simply hanging open like it was the only thing his face knew how to do. Tony was looking up at the ceiling, and even in the halflight Steve could see the faint flush on his sharp cheeks, the nervous tap of his fingers. Emotions were dangerous to Tony. But he was letting them out anyway. For Steve.

It was hard to believe, even now, months on, that he had this. That not only did he get Tony for himself, but that he had influence over him. Not in a twisted or manipulative way- God, Steve would never- but just… it meant so much. That Tony had given him the power to hurt him, because he trusted that Steve never would.

“Tony, that’s... God, that's _brilliant_ ,” Steve whispered when his brain finally rebooted, mouth turning up and splitting into a huge smile. He moved his hands from around Tony’s waist and cupped his face, leaning down and kissing him. “That’s so so wonderful, oh God, I’m so happy for you!”

“Hey, I mean, don’t get your hopes up or anything,” Tony babbled under Steve’s mouth, even as his hands flexed excitedly around Steve’s shoulders, “I probably won’t get in, not with my history, but I just wanted to try, you know, I thought I could give it a go. The headmaster knows me- I've been in contact with him for a while, thanks to Yinsen, actually. He knows my potential, even if I am a little asshole.”

Steve couldn’t stop smiling. He thought it was going to split his face in half. "Tony, I am so fucking proud of you, you know that right?" He asked, brushing absently through Tony's hair and then tucking the stray strands behind his ear. "Whether you get in or not, I just..."

Steve shook his head and then grinned softly as Tony stared up at him, his face a myriad of different and equally endearing emotions. Embarrassment. Fear. Bashfulness. And then there was, of course, the way Tony's hands were squeezed tight around Steve, like the touch was all he had in the world. He knew that Tony needed this. "You're amazing. And clever. And capable. And good and kind and-"

"Alright, _alright_ already, quit it with the compliments, weirdo" Tony mumbled, but Steve knew from the way he was smiling that he didn't mean a word of that. Steve rolled his eyes- Tony could charm the pants off a stranger, but the moment he received a genuine compliment, he blushed firetruck red and suddenly forgot how to speak. 

Fuck what the rest of the world thought. Tony Stark was adorable.

“You do realize you’re going to have to do some major construction work in regards to sorting out your behavior at school right now, you know? No more smoking in the bathrooms or getting detentions every night, Stark. They don't like that in the Ivy Leagues,” Steve informed him primly, hand digging into the pocket of Tony's jacket and then tugging out his packet of cigarettes before Tony even had the chance to look down. He waved them in the air, keeping them just out of reach as Tony made an unimpressed noise in the back of his throat and then reached out for them. Eventually, because Tony was pretty much double his fucking size, he just sat up with Steve still leaning against his chest and then grabbed his arms, yanking them back and snatching his cigarettes back. Steve tutted and shook his head. "Those things'll kill you, you know," he informed with a nod toward the cigarette Tony was now twirling absently through his fingers.

Tony rolled his eyes and pouted. “You think it’s hot," he responded, and then leaned up and kissed Steve’s nose quickly.

“You know what I think is even hotter?” Steve titled his head and then brushed his lips across Tony’s ear. Tony remained silent, listening, and then Steve continued: “You doing what you love and succeeding in life because you’re smart enough to do anything you set your mind to.” And before Tony could respond with something undoubtedly self-deprecating, Steve blew sharply in his ear.

Tony spasmed wildly, dislodging Steve from his chest as he yelped, and then clapped a hand over his mouth immediately after. Four different voices cursed his name, whilst several pillows were thrown angrily in his direction, and Tony shot Steve a mutinous look, before snapping his hands around Steve’s hips and yanking him forward. Knowing he was beat this time, Steve simply let him.

“Love you,” he said, a wicked grin on his face as Tony just buried his head into Steve’s shoulder and then gave him a reprimanding nip with his teeth.

“Shut up, we’re spooning now,” was the response he got, which, Steve could admit, was ridiculously endearing. Hearing Tony’s sleepy voice, muffled by Steve’s shoulder, tell him with a sulky tone that they were spooning and he needed to be quiet was far cuter than Steve would ever have thought possible.

 

As he slowly calmed back down and began to drift off once more, he vaguely wondered whether or not the boy who Steve had been months back, when he’d first moved to Manhattan, alone and orphaned and more miserable than he’d ever thought he could be, would ever have imagined he’d reach a stage like this. Wrapped in the arms of someone else, sleeping on a pillow-strewn floor of a friend’s house with a dozen other people.

Almost certainly not. At the time, Steve had been convinced he’d never make a single other friend outside of Peggy and Buck. He’d thought highschool was just going to go from bad to worse. And he’d thought the beautiful boy that rode his bike to school and stared at him when he thought Steve hadn’t been looking was just another perfect disaster- far out of reach, living on a different world to Steve. One that he’d never be able to reach.

 

He turned his head, looking at Tony’s mop of loose curls. Tony felt the movement, and his hands squeezed just that little bit tighter around Steve’s stomach.

“Love you too,” the boy murmured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that there isnt much substance to this and that it's pretty short, but I just wanted to write something and get me back into the swing of the story seeing as it's been a while since I updated. So! Some more relationshippy fluff, and general wholesomeness. Savour it while you can. Shit's going to go down soon.
> 
> :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are young dumb kids, and here is more useless writing about them

Winter wrapped around New York like a cold sheet, and Steve became used to the feeling of numb fingers and cold limbs every time he left the Wilsons’ home. All his friends thought he looked hilarious decked out in his five layers, two pairs of gloves, a bobbly hat and a thick woollen scarf, but he was not perturbed by their teasing.

“It’s _fashionable_ ,” he told them with a huff, flipping his head and stroking the faded fabric of his favourite yellow and green scarf lovingly, “you just don’t know shit about style, any of you.”

Beside him, Thor coughed and raised his hand. “As someone who is decidedly interested in fashion and takes multiple online courses on the subject, may I interject with my opinion?”

“No.”

“The combination of mustard yellow and bright green is one of the biggest fashion crimes of the century and if you had any sense, you would burn it to a cinder,” Thor told him anyway, whilst Steve just stuck his tongue out and wrapped the fabric tighter around his neck.

“Hey, I mean, at the end of the day, he’s probably warmer than all of us,” Peggy said with a shrug as she jumped up and down and then rubbed her hands together. “Why are we all loitering outside the mall in the freezing cold anyway?”

“Because the buses are cancelled thanks to the snow and Bucky’s going to be here in about five minutes, so we might as well just wait for him,” Natasha said, whilst her fingers zipped quickly along her phone. She was wearing a thin leather jacket and a lacy shirt, and yet was the only one of them who seemed unaffected by the cold. Because she was a witch. Steve was sure of it.

Steve watched as Bruce pulled a face. “How are six people going to fit in that piece of junk?”

“Illegally,” Peggy told him with a grin, “I mean, that’s assuming we’ll even manage to set off when all of us are in it. I’m betting it’ll just fall apart as soon as Thor touches it. It looks like it’s made of tinfoil.”

“Hey!” Natasha turned to Peggy in betrayal, “Bucky and I chose that car with care and love, don’t disrespect her.” She paused, before frowning a little and glancing at Steve. “Although I _would_ have preferred to be chauffeured around in a nice Lamborghini, courtesy of your billionaire boyfriend. Why could he not just swing by? He lives nearer than Bucky anyway.”

Steve pulled a face. “He’s with his dad,” he muttered, sharing a small look with Thor before turning back to the others, “don’t think he’s gonna be able to get out any time soon.”

Everyone nodded glumly, huddling a little closer together as the wind whipped up a new spray of wet snow around them. The impromptu shopping trip to the mall had been Peggy’s idea of combatting boredom, and Steve had thought it’d be a good idea to try and get in some early Christmas shopping before it became too late. Of course, their plans never quite went as they intended- they’d been kicked out of the place by mall security after an hour when Natasha shoulder-barged Thor into the mannequin tower in the centre of the plaza accidentally. Seriously though; it was just stupid to put a bunch of precariously placed dolls in the middle of a busy shopping mall. And it’s not like they’d _meant_ to, so Steve really didn’t see what the fuss was about.

“I’m hungry,” Bruce complained, turning to Natasha and then resting his chin on her shoulder, “did you steal any candy for me?”

Wordlessly, she pulled out a Hershey’s bar from the inside of her jacket, whilst Steve simply tutted disapprovingly. Bruce, however, didn’t seem to mind consuming jacked goods, and quickly snatched it from her hands in delight. “You are my favourite, Romanov.”

“One day you’re going to get caught doing that,” Steve told her with a raised eyebrow, folding his arms in front of him.

She didn’t even look up from her phone. “Steve, I watched you walk out of this same store with an entirely different outfit to the one you came in with, once.”

“That- that was _one_ time!” Steve spluttered, cheeks turning red as he looked at Thor, who simply stared in amused surprise, “Bucky dared me and I was broke. That’s capitalism’s fault, not mine.”

“I agree,” Natasha opened her jacket, pulling out another candy bar and then tossing it in Steve’s direction with a sweet smile, “we’re taking down the capitalist hierarchy, one bar of chocolate at a time.”

Steve snorted, bumping shoulders with her and grinning as he looked out into the parking lot and caught sight of Bucky’s beat-up old car as it pulled in. Everyone sighed in relief, quickly hurrying over whilst still huddled together. Peggy managed to call dibs on the front seat, and then Steve simply sighed as squeezed his skinny ass into the back seat with his three other friends. It was lucky he was so thin- Thor alone took up half the car.

Bucky was playing something obnoxious on the radio, but he turned it down and then turned to them all. “You have fun, kids?” He asked, leaning over the back seat in order to press a hello kiss into Natasha’s forehead.

“No, Thor and Natasha ruined a mannequin mountain before we could do any actual shopping and we all got kicked out,” Peggy told him, fiddling with the dials on his dash, “does this piece of shite not even have any heating?”

Bucky just smacked her hand away with a scowl. “Be nice, she’s had a tough day,” he said. “Also, I’d like to just say that whoever had the bravery to frogmarch both Thor and Natasha from any building is a person that I have the utmost respect for.”

Natasha smiled, patting him on the head and then pulling out yet another candy bar from the inside of her jacket pocket, whilst Steve just stared in incredulity. How many of those goddamn things had she stolen?

Again, though, Bucky seemed not to mind- just took it with a fond look on his face. He was completely head over heels, the poor boy. “I love it when you steal things for me, you lawless evil demon,” he leaned in and kissed her again, and everyone just rolled their eyes.

“Shut up and drive, jerk,” Steve kicked the driver’s seat impatiently and rubbed his hands together, “your car isn’t going to bear our weight for much longer and I don’t want it to fall apart whilst we’re in the middle of the highway.”

It took another minute of everyone chatting before Bucky actually got around to driving off, but eventually they managed to exit the parking lot and head out back home. Whilst they drove, Steve ticked off a few names on his checklist- Thor and Peggy were both done now, and he had Bucky’s Christmas gift planned out already, so that’d be fine. Everyone else would probably not be too bothered about whatever they received anyway- he knew for a fact that he could give Clint a dirty sock and the guy would probably cherish it.

No. The one he was struggling with was, surprise surprise, Tony.

Look- what the hell did you get for a guy who had everything? What did you get for your _boyfriend_ who had everything? Steve wasn’t gonna lie; he was shit at thinking of gifts to give people. He was also laughably broke, which didn’t help either. All in all, birthdays and Christmases were just big disasters that usually ended up with one bashful Steve, one bag of his friend’s favourite candies and the promise to act as their slave for one chosen day. Bucky and Peggy were used to that- Bucky and Peggy expected that at this point.

But he couldn’t just do that for Tony. Because he knew the boy, dammit, and so Steve also knew that there was no way Tony wasn’t going to be splurging out on the best ever gift for Steve. It would be something amazing, like it had been for his birthday, and then Steve was going to feel like an absolute tool when he turned around and gave Tony something shitty in return. He couldn’t do that.

So basically, he’d started his panicked Christmas shopping a month early, in the hope that he’d stumble upon something perfect and also preferably under thirty dollars. Which was seeming more and more unlikely by the minute.

Once everyone had piled out of the car twenty minutes later and started making their way into Natasha’s place, Steve quickly pulled Bucky aside and kept him behind whilst everyone else wandered off. “Bucky, pal, brother, best-friend-for-life, you’re wise, right-“

“Oh no, I know already that this is going to be a stupid thing you’re about to say,” Bucky sighed as he slammed the door shut, turning around to Steve and popping his collar against the cold wind, “Stevie, buddy, I love you, but if you’re going to try and convince me to do something dumb again, I’ve gotta tell you, it’s not happening. It’s too cold and there’s pizza inside-“

“No, nothing dumb, I promise,” Steve hurried to confirm as he shook his head, “I’m just… wondering what you’ve gotten Natasha for Christmas?”

Bucky paused. And then snorted. “What, you think I’ve planned that far in advance? Steve, do you know me at all?”

When Steve looked at him in shock, Bucky just huffed, looking over to the house with a soft smile on my face. “Dude, we’re both broke as shit. I just spent all my money on a car and Tash steals breakfasts bars from the corner store so that she isn’t going hungry until dinner.”

That threw Steve for a loop. “I thought Nat was rich,” he said dumbly, thinking back to her well-furnished apartment and all the nice clothes she wore.

But Bucky shook his head. “Nah,” he said, “that’s just the person she pretends to be to everyone else. Makes her seem less vulnerable, I guess. She spends money on nice jeans and makes sure her place looks nice so that you think she’s doing fine, but I’ve seen her take a pair of scissors and cut her hair by herself ‘cuz she can’t afford to get it done properly.” He shrugged, before grinning again, “I think our Christmas is just gonna be spent with a bottle of whiskey and some shitty horror movies. And you know what? I’m absolutely okay with that.” His face softened even further as he looked down at the floor and kicked an invisible piece of dirt. “It’s…it’s _her_ , you know? As long as that stays the same, it’s gonna be amazin’ anyway.”

Steve just looked at him blankly, before pulling a face and punching his friend in the arm. “When the fuck did you become such a sap, Barnes?” He asked with a grin, whilst his best friend just rolled his eyes and then punched him back. “I mean, it’s all well and good for _you_ guys, but neither of you are billionaires with high standards and bank statements that don’t come back in single digits.” Steve sighed dramatically, beginning to turn and walk over to the house in time with Bucky.

“Oh, so this ain’t even about me, is it?” Bucky asked him wryly, “this is about Tony? Of course, that being said, when is it _not_ about T-“

“Shut up, punk,” Steve bumped their shoulders together, feeling himself start to blush, “if you can wax poetic about Natasha, I get to talk about mine, okay?”

“Fair,” Bucky said with a shrug, turning back to him, “so you’re worried about what to get him, huh?”

“Well…” Steve made a face and shrugged, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck as they neared the door, “I’m not worried, per se, I just-“ _I don’t want to fuck this up, I know the Christmas period isn’t a great time for Tony because of everything that happened and I want him to feel loved, letting him down in any way just isn’t an option but it feels impossible **not** to let him down, I mean, it’s me, I’m already pretty underwhelming-_ “I’m just wondering what to get him. That’s all.”

Bucky looked at him like he knew everything Steve was thinking- or at least, the self deprecating parts anyway. He was uncannily good at that sort of thing, and Steve had very often received smacks around the head because of his mind-reading abilities.

Which was, incidentally, what he got now.

“Ow,” Steve complained with a pout, whilst Bucky just tutted and then pushed open the door, shouldering Steve inside.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Bucky asked him, “have you _seen_ the way that guy looks at you? Jesus Christ, Steve, you could spit on him and he’d probably try and bottle it.”

“Okay, well that’s just weird-“

“What I’m _trying_ to say,” Bucky interjected before Steve could go any further, “is that he won’t care. I promise. Just… give him something that _means_ something. It doesn’t have to be expensive. Get him something related to an inside joke, or something that you know is important to him. It don’t gotta be no diamond ring. Tony doesn’t give a shit about that and you know it.”

Steve nodded with a sigh, biting his lip. He did know that; Bucky was right. Dammit.  “I hate when you talk sense,” he muttered as he slid off his jacket and hung it on the rack.

Bucky just shoved him into the wall and smiled. “That’s why I only ever do it once every year,” he said, “so don’t be expectin’ any good advice for the next twelve months. You just used up your quota.”

They were both laughing as they wandered into the living room and made themselves comfortable- Bucky laying on Natasha’s lap, and Steve laying on Bucky’s. Around him, his friends lay buried in blankets or huddled up to the radiators- all except Thor, who was sat cross-legged in the center of the room and watching cartoons on Nat’s TV avidly, apparently not caring for the cold.

Steve grinned to himself as he pulled out his phone, happy to simply scroll through Instagram in quiet as his friends chatted and lounged around him. It was a certain kind of comfort, that ability to just sit and do nothing with your friends. Without the awkwardness. Without the worry. Steve really, truly loved it. These were people that he knew he could be himself around. That he knew he could rely on, without question.

Sometimes he looked back a few months, and realised quite how far he’d come since then. It was… it was good. To think about the progress. His mom would be happy with that, he knew. She’d always wanted him to make more friends, and, well, here he was now, surrounded by them.

Which reminded him- “Bruce, you’re great, buddy, but if you start snoring and drooling into my feet I’m gonna have to kick you in the face.”

Down below, curled up in a ball near his feet and surrounded by a veritable nest of pillows, Bruce simply punched him on the back of the knee and then rolled over, hand reaching out blindly for his phone, which Thor slid away every time his fingers got close. Steve watched the interaction in amusement for a few minutes, and then laughed when Bruce finally opened his eyes and saw what Thor was doing, which, of course, resulted in a (short) wrestling match that had Thor sitting on the other boy less than three seconds later.

He loved his friends.

Eventually, after a few more hours of loitering, they all got kicked out into the cold New York streets once more by a sleepy Natasha who declared she required a nap and ‘boyfriend time’. When Bruce, unwisely, asked why Bucky could get extra boyfriend time but they couldn’t get extra friendship time, Natasha simply stared at him and told him with a blank face, “well I can’t exactly peg _you_ , can I?”

Bruce learned a valuable lesson that night.

Glancing at his watch as he stepped out the door, Steve realised that they’d been there for three hours, and the night had crept around them very quickly in that time. It had already gone seven, and Steve found himself sighing at the prospect of having to catch the nightmare buses at this time. So instead, he turned to Thor and shot the boy his best and most innocent smile.

The boy lasted a grand total of two seconds before agreeing to drive Steve home.

In the end, he managed to arrive back at the Wilson’s place by about eight at night, and by that time, he was very much ready to go straight to sleep. Getting kicked out of a mall and then lounging around on a couch for three hours sure was exhausting. Of course, though, as soon as he even so much as thought about sleep, he ended up bumping into Sam, who managed to somehow corral him into helping him study for the science exam that he had to do the next morning and had been stuck inside studying all day for. He wasn’t exactly sure how, but by the time he actually made it into bed, it was midnight and he was pretty much dead on his feet. 

He stared up at the ceiling, and couldn’t help but be glad about it, in a roundabout sort of way. Yeah, he was going to hate himself in the morning- but damn, did it make a nice change from doing nothing all day and then heading to bed at six.

Like he’d said- he’d come a long way. And he was really starting to like where he’d ended up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You fucking fool.”

“In my defence-“

“No, there is absolutely no way to defend this,” Steve waved a hand incredulously across the room, looking at Tony as he stood, clad only in a pair of black boxers and covered in splotches of various colors of neon paint, “I have been staring at you for ten seconds now, which is a lot of time to try and think of some explanation, and I really haven’t found one.”

“I was trying to make paint!” Tony rolled his eyes and gestured, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “cool paint that glowed in the dark and also really really black paint that is 0.02% blacker than vantablack and will piss Mr. Kapoor off very much when he realises he’s been bested by a seventeen year old.”

Steve looked at him blankly, and then folded his arms. “How much sleep have you had in the past four days?” He asked with a cocked head.

Tony said nothing, so Steve turned to his desk, where the huge computer was plugged in. “JARVIS-“

“J, I don’t want another word out of you for the rest of the day, do you understand?” Tony raised a finger quickly and prodded it in the computer’s general direction before the AI could even hope to respond, and the ensuing silence told Steve that the robot must have become a little bit more obedient since he’d seen it last, because it actually listened to Tony’s instruction that time.

Steve sighed, stepping over a pile of plastic rods which looked as if they had no place in a teenage boy’s room, and then made his way carefully over to his ridiculous boyfriend. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, just for good measure, pressing a finger into Tony’s chest and then scooping up a splat of purple just over his heart. “Why did you even decide to make paint? You’re an engineer. Would’a thought you’d have just built another robot or something.”

Tony looked at him bashfully, shrugging. “Was thinking about you,” he muttered, and then a second later he stifled a yawn and blinked slowly, “just… seemed like a cool idea at the time. Dunno.” He sighed. “I’m tired, Steve.”

God, he was adorable like that. Ridiculous, covered in paint, and adorable. Steve just smiled, because he couldn’t help himself, and then leaned up to kiss a clean section of Tony’s cheek. “No shit,” he said softly, taking Tony’s hand and leading him over to the desk where he’d clocked some baby wipes. “Come here- I’m gonna wipe off as much as I can, but seeing as your bedsheets look pretty fucked anyway, I don’t think it’s ultimately going to matter much.” He paused, before adding, “this is mostly just for me. I don’t want to be cuddled by someone who’s covered in paint. Not a good look.”

Tony murmured something incoherent, but followed Steve’s lead and let the boy wipe him down until he was as clean as could be without a shower. There were still bits of bright green in his hair, but Steve would let Tony worry about that later. For now-

“Sleep,” Steve ordered, pushing Tony backward until he landed on the bed with a thump. He’d come over because Tony had called him at seven in the morning on a Sunday saying that he wanted Steve to come round- and really, it said a lot that Steve had even answered at all, considering his usual ‘no interaction before double digits’ rule- but now that he was actually here, he might as well try and get Tony to behave like a normal human being with normal human needs, at least for a few hours.

Tony blinked up at him and frowned. “That’s not why I invited you over,” he said grumpily.

Steve didn’t budge. “I am quite frankly so far away from bothered by that fact. You’re exhausted, and seeing as you woke me up at some goddamn ridiculous hour, I am too.”

It took Tony a moment, but then he smiled and stuck out a hand like a baby asking to be held. Sometimes Steve had to remind himself that he was dating someone who’d been expelled four different times, because seriously, the boy that was in front of him was so far from any of that it was insane. This Tony Stark was… cute as shit. That was really the only way to describe it.

Steve rolled his eyes fondly, but eventually he walked forward and then reached out his own hand until their fingers joined together. With a surprising amount of force for someone so exhausted, Tony pulled him into his arms and then curled around him, burying his nose into Steve’s neck. He felt as those long eyelashes fluttered closed against his jaw, and Steve knew that it wasn’t going to be long until Tony was clocked out again.

When Steve chuckled to himself, Tony’s fingers flexed around his waist. “Can we have sex please?” he mumbled, almost on autopilot at the sound of Steve next to him.

That only made Steve laugh harder, and he tilted his head backward, patting Tony’s cheek. “Sex later, sleep first,” he said firmly as he shut his eyes and then settled down in Tony’s arms.

They did this sort of thing a lot, these days. Just… allowed themselves to exist around one another. Like he did with his friends, Steve felt comfortable enough around Tony to be able to do _nothing_. No fancy dates or constant need for conversation. No worrying over how to keep things interesting. Steve could let himself be boring around Tony- he could pick up a book and put his head in Tony’s lap and they wouldn’t speak for two hours, but they’d be _together_ , and that was a special kind of amazing that Steve had no idea he valued so much.

It meant that he could curl up in Tony’s arms at 11 in the morning, lying on his bed and drifting in and out of consciousness with not even the slightest amount of worry that he was screwing something up.

Steve smiled softly, turning a little in Tony’s arms so that he was chest to chest with the other boy. Tony’s cheek was pushed into the pillow, his hair a messy array of unruly curls that coiled over his forehead and fell into his closed eyes. He was drooling slightly into the mattress, and Steve didn’t doubt that if he looked now, he’d see a matching damp spot on his shoulder from where Tony had been burying his head.

God, Steve loved him.

With an imperceptible huff, Steve pushed some of the longer strands of Tony’s hair out from his eyes with his pinkie finger, tucking them behind his ear somewhat uselessly, seeing as Tony just shifted a second later and then dislodged them once again. Steve rolled his eyes- trust that boy to be stubborn, even in his sleep.

Steve felt himself drift back off into a peaceful doze, his head buried into the warmth of Tony’s bare chest as he caught up on the hours he’d lost that morning. His mind wandered absently and without rush- ideas for new art pieces he was thinking of, a present that he could buy for Bruce that he’d seen out on the highstreet earlier, how he was going to make Mrs. Kaplinsky believe he’d really lost his history book for the third time in the semester, and all the while Tony breathed peacefully beside him, his fingers curled loosely around Steve’s waist and holding him close. He was so much more… innocent, when he was asleep. Smaller and almost vulnerable, curled into Steve’s warmth like a child, his face relaxed and open and hair messy in the way that wasn’t fashionable, just ridiculous. Steve tilted his head and watched him breathe for a moment, tracing the lines and creases of his face, both present currently and ones that only came to be when Tony was awake, like the frowny ones over his eyebrows and the part of his cheek that dimpled when he smiled.

Once more, Steve smiled to himself softly and then let his eyes fall shut to the sound of-

Footsteps clacking down the corridor.

He frowned, his sleep-addled mind not quite processing the connotations of those footsteps for another second or two. When he did, however, relaxation and peace suddenly felt a million miles away, and he wrenched his eyes open in horror, sitting up ramrod straight on the bed and then grabbing Tony’s shoulder, shaking him sharply. He could feel his heart start to leap in his throat, faster and faster as the sound got closer.

Before Tony could even properly wake, Steve hissed down at him, “I think your dad’s back early, shit, what do we d-“

The reaction was immediate.

Like a flash, Tony wasn’t drowsy. In fact, his reactions were some of the quickest Steve had ever seen in his life. He barely even took a breath or looked at Steve at all- but a foot came out and hit him square in the stomach, hard and untamed. Steve wheezed in complete surprise, the power behind Tony’s foot sending him flying off the bed, landing him heavily on the floor below. Something blunt- a corner of a random bit of equipment, maybe- hit him on the nose on the way down, and he barely had the sense to withhold the grunt of pain as he was suddenly brought into close quarters with the bottom of Tony’s room.

Not even a second later, Steve heard the door fly open. He had the good sense to roll under the bed as quietly as he could, holding his breath and feeling uncharacteristically afraid. He wasn’t sure why- Howard Stark was a pretty scary man, and he looked like he packed a punch, but he also had no idea Steve even existed at that point, so there was no need to try and stop his breath hitching. Maybe it was because of the way Tony acted around him- the fearless boy, the daredevil, the best fighter Steve knew- scared shitless of the guy Steve was in the same room with. It was a daunting thought.

He swallowed sharply and pinched his nose, trying to stop the bleeding. On the bed above him, Tony was silent.

There were a few seconds where no words were spoken. Then: “The fuck was that noise jus’ then?”

Steve’s mouth opened in nervousness, but Tony’s response, surprisingly, was completely fluid, and his voice calm. He sounded unbothered and nonchalant; entirely different to the wild panic that Steve had glanced in his eyes before he’d been hauled out of sight. “Just jumped onto the bed and knocked the desk. Thought you were still with Obie?”

Steve watched Howard’s shoes come forward, stumbling a little. He could tell from voice alone that the man was off his face. On what, Steve couldn’t tell. “Was. But we finished early, then Obie was acting like a faggot and saying he wanted out of our deal so I bailed on him. He always argues like such’a little bitch when he’s drunk.” Howard clicked his teeth and Tony said nothing. Steve didn’t hear a single spring in the mattress creak. The boy was being unnaturally still.

“Why are you up here, dad?” Tony asked with a small note of resignation in his voice, “you should probably go sleep it off. It’s still early in the day-“

“I need you,” Howard snapped quickly, and he stepped forward again, coming closer and closer to Steve’s face, “gotta meet with a client. I’m not in a… they’ll want you more. Guy looks kinda queer anyway, so you’ll fit right in.”

Steve bit his tongue, feeling something sour in his chest. It had been twenty seconds, and Tony’s dad had used two slurs. In front of his bisexual son.

“I-“ Tony finally sounded a little distressed, “Howard, I’m not fucking- God, couldn’t you have called ahead or something, I’m really not prepared to be-“

“Do I give a shit whether you’re prepared?” Howard snapped again, and this time, Steve heard the bedsprings react to Tony’s flinch, “I told you to do this for me, ‘cause it’s millions of dollars on the line that you’re gonna undoubtedly wanna fritter away on drugs and beer, so get your stupid ass into a suit and go meet them. Now. Be damn useful for once in your life.”

“How long is this going to take me?” Tony asked.

“Probably ‘bout… three hours, if you don’t fuck up.”

 _“Three hours?”_ Tony hissed, “Howard, I can’t just… I have things I need to do today! You have a whole speech planned for this, I have nothing, you can’t just give me five minutes and expect me to be able to land you a fucking deal, I don’t even know what they’re fucking here f-“

Howard stepped forward then, one long stride, and Tony’s mouth shut off with an abrupt halt. Steve heard him scuttle backward on the mattress above him, and for one terrifying moment, he thought that Howard was going to strike him. He reached out a hand on autopilot, aiming for the man’s ankle, readying to pull it out from underneath him if he had to- but he heard no sound of impact, and instead, just a deafening silence.

His fingers remained, hovering a few inches away from Howard Stark as the loud sound of nothingness filled the room.

“Anthony- you’re gonna go out there, an’ you’re gonna do what I fuckin’ tell you, understand me?” Howard asked, his voice low and so full of venom that it actually took Steve back a little, “you can just ad-lib it. You think you’re so fuckin’ smart anyways, might as well prove it. But lemm’e tell you… this deal better go right, or I’m gonna fuckin’ kill ya’.”

Tony said nothing again, and Steve wondered whether he was going to argue further- but then, instead, he coughed. “It will go right,” he muttered emptily, “I promise. Don’t worry about it.”

Steve just gaped, horror stricken as Howard began to back off, seemingly appeased. “They’re arriving in five minutes,” he called out as he left, “you be ready by then, or I’m draggin’ you down and makin’ you talk with your ass out.”

The door slammed again with a final thud, and Steve just looked through the small gap under the bed, mouth hanging open in complete shock. He couldn’t even believe that had happened- that those sorts of words had been said to a child, to _his own_ child.

He started shuffling out from under the bed, but just as his head poked out, he heard Tony suddenly move up above him. His legs landed into Steve’s vision, and then his knees buckled and he crouched down, not so much looking at Steve as he was looking through him. His face was blank as he pushed Steve’s shoulder backward. “Stay there,” he whispered, “stay, he might come back. If he sees you he’ll try and- just stay there.”

Steve blinked. The underside of Tony’s bed was dusty, and playing havoc with his allergies, only made worse by the bloody nose. “I… Tony, I can’t exactly stay here for three hours, hiding under your bed.”

“You can and you will,” Tony said sharply, pushing him back once more and then standing up jerkily, rushing over to his wardrobe and then throwing out all the contents until he found a decent suit. He looked manic, but his eyes were empty- completely unlike what Steve had been experiencing barely even two minutes beforehand.

Steve was worried, but at the same time, the order in Tony’s words set something in him on the defensive. “Tony, don’t be ridiculous. I’ll sneak out or something, okay, I won’t get caught, I promise-“

 _“No,”_ Tony said, more angrily this time as he spun around and clumsily buttoned up his shirt. His fingers were shaking. “No, you… God, he was so close. He was so… God, fuck, _fuck_ , you just need to stay there, alright? This isn’t up for discussion.”

“I think you’ll find it goddamn is,” Steve retorted, his own voice sharpening, but staying low and quiet, “Tony, I think my nose is broken. I need to get it reset-“

“Well it’s gonna have to wait, Steve, it’s not fucking important,” Tony snapped at him, combing his fingers through his hair and straightening it up.

Steve just looked at him blankly. Tony could not have just said that. _“Excuse_ me?”

But rather than respond, the boy just shook his head and then rushed off into his bathroom, rubbing frantically at the splatters of paint in his hair and face. It took a few seconds until Tony was done, and when he came back out again, he didn’t even look Steve in the eye. “Just… just wait. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

And then, just like that, the door shut and he was gone.

Steve watched the space his body had occupied, mouth hanging open and blood dripping down his chin. This felt surreal. He’d… fuck, he’d barely even been awake three minutes ago, and now here he was, lying on the floor, confused and hurt and absolutely fucking furious.

His nose hurt. It hurt like a fucking bitch, and he felt like he was going to sneeze under all the dust. He couldn’t stay here. He just couldn’t. And Tony… God, he hadn’t even apologized? Offered any other alternative? He’d just _left_. Gone. Steve could deal with his own shit alone, obviously, despite the fact that it was Steve who was stranded in Tony’s fucking house for five fucking hours.

No. No way. Steve loved Tony, but he wasn’t a fucking pushover.

Pulling out his phone with shaky hands, he got up Bucky’s number and then slid his fingers over the keyboard, asking his friend to come pick him up outside Tony’s place. Bucky sent a few question marks in response, but Steve just told him he’d explain later, and Bucky, being the good friend that he was, simply gave him an okay and then nothing more.

Steve checked for noises out in the corridor for a few minutes, and then, when he was certain there was nothing, he crawled back out from under the bed. His nose was itching terribly, and he knew that he would not be able to stop the sneeze that came a few seconds later. He tried to contain it as much as possible, but the dust didn’t help at all, and he ended up spraying blood all over Tony’s floor. To say it hurt was an understatement- in fact, the pain was so intense for a moment that his vision whited out, and he sagged against the bed as tears sprung to his eyes. Nose injuries always made his eyes water like a bitch.

He caught his breath and waited until the pain died down a little, pulling his bloodied hands away from his face and wiping them against his jeans. He couldn’t believe things had gone to such shit in the space of about five minutes- his good mood had evaporated entirely, and left only sour frustration in its place.

God, he should have just stayed at home.

Now he was here, however, he was caught between climbing out of the window and jumping down onto Tony’s porch directly underneath him in order to sneak out, or just telling Bucky to go back home and then waiting around for Tony to see if he was okay. He’d been on edge when he’d left the room, and Steve knew that Tony was currently downstairs covering all that panic up completely as he talked to whatever clients that Howard had shoved onto him. When he got back and took off that nonchalant mask, however, Steve worried about all that fear crawling right back, even worse than before.

But Steve was bleeding all over the fucking bedsheets, and Steve just couldn’t sit under that bed for three whole hours, sneezing away in immense pain. He was angry at Tony, but he knew he would only be angrier still by the time the boy eventually came back to collect him, which would just make everything a hell of a lot worse.

He needed to get out. Sort his fucking nose out, for starters. Then he could call Tony or something.

With a short sigh and a grind of his teeth, he stood up to his feet and then crept quietly across to Tony’s window. “JARVIS?” He asked softly, but got no response. Steve frowned- before remembering Tony’s earlier words. He’d ordered JARVIS not to speak another word for the remainder of the day… God, that must’ve been why he hadn’t alerted Tony and Steve to Howard’s presence.

He shook his head and continued forward, pulling the window open easily and then checking his distances before tentatively climbing out, legs hanging over the sill. A moment’s pause had him nervously wondering whether the sound was going to be loud enough to alert someone to his presence- but he quickly discarded it. Their meeting rooms were all the way over on the other side of the building, and anyway, it was a brick roof. It wouldn’t make an overly loud sound.

He took a deep breath through his mouth and then dropped, landing a little clumsily onto the roof. It jarred his knees slightly, but nothing major, and he was quickly making his way down onto the grass a few seconds later, ducking under the windows and heading over to the clump of trees that were at the edge of the Stark Mansion. He had to stop and sneeze again, and it was horrible, but at least not agonizing that time. Steve thought that his nose probably wasn’t broken, just a bit banged up. That was nice, at least.

The wall that guarded Tony’s mansion was bigger than Steve could reach, but he made his way up the nearby tree and then scrambled over the top, jumping out onto the sidewalk a minute or so later. He looked a complete mess- his shirt was covered in red splatters and his face was covered in blood, as if he’d been in a fight. He realised that Bucky was going to take one look at him and immediately declare raging war on Tony, and so with another sigh, he grabbed his phone and shot off another text to his friend.

 ** _Steve:_** _Don’t worry about how I’m looking btw. It’s a long story, but he didn’t hit me_.

**_Bucky:_ ** _Hit you???_

**_Bucky:_ ** _Not 2 text & drive here but what the fuck Steve_

**_Bucky:_ ** _Ur paying for my speeding fine if I get caught- I’ll be two minutes._

Steve just grimaced and then pocketed his phone, looking back in the direction of the mansion and worrying at his lip. He sort of wished he’d stayed- upset as he was, Tony had still been the one who’d had some sort of major freakout over it, and Steve wanted to get to the bottom of it at the very least. Because he knew for a fact that Tony saying Steve’s wellbeing wasn’t important was complete bullshit; he might have self-worth issues, but even he could see that Tony gave more of a damn about him than he’d shown just then. It didn’t make sense, really.

But he was here now, and Bucky’s car was swerving around the corner. Steve couldn’t exactly go back in now.

He waved awkwardly at Bucky as the boy pulled up, open-mouthed and staring at him through the window. “Hey,” he muttered.

Bucky looked gobsmacked for another moment, before something clicked on his face and the expression turned to one of outright fury. “Where the _fuck_ is he,” he growled, hand going to the car-door and clicking it open, “Steve, I swear to fucking God, what did he do to y-“

“He didn’t hit me, I told you, I swear this wasn’t… it wasn’t intentional okay, you know he wouldn’t,” Steve held out his hands and stepped forward, pushing Bucky’s door closed again. He hurried quickly over to the passenger seat and slipped inside, looking at Bucky with a tired sort of smile. “Thank you for picking me up, by the way.”

“Tell me what happened,” Bucky didn’t bother with trivialities, turning to look at him with a serious glare, “Steve, please-“

“I just fell off the bed and landed on something, but I don’t think it’s broken,” Steve explained calmly, before shutting his eyes and sighing, “Tony pushed me off because his dad came in the room. Neither of us had any idea he was home. If I’d been a second slower, he might have seen me.”

Bucky was silent, looking at him. “Then why are you angry?” He asked, and then when Steve tried to immediately deny the fact, Bucky just rolled his eyes. “Come on, Steve, I’ve known you all my life. I can tell when you’re pissed.”

Steve ground his teeth together and turned his head, looking at the dash sullenly. “Just… the way he reacted after,” he muttered eventually, “he was… I dunno. Freaking out, I think. But he saw the state I was in and acted like he didn’t give a shit. Just told me to stay under the bed for three hours until he came back from where Howard had asked him to go. I was- I mean, he didn’t even let me try and talk to him. Just gave me an order and then slammed the door behind him before I could say anything else or even hope to actually have a conversation about it. I don’t know what got into him.” Steve grimaced again, picking at his nails. “It just hurt, that was all. I got pissed off. And my dust allergies kicked in too, so I just couldn’t stay under there.

Not in this state.”

“Damn right you couldn’t,” Bucky nodded grumpily, starting up the engine again. There was a small frown on his face, however. “So he just, what, saw you all messed up and told you to shut it, or somethin’?”

Steve pulled a face. “Told me it wasn’t important. That it’d have to wait until he came back.”

Bucky’s face turned incredulous, and he whipped his head around to Steve. “What the f-“

“Eyes on the road, bud.”

Bucky turned quickly back to the road, but he stole glances Steve’s way instead. “What the fuck?” He repeated, tapping his fingers across the wheel, “why the fuck would he… and he didn’t apologize or offer any explanation? Nothing?”

Steve bit his lip. “No.”

Bucky said nothing. His brow was set in a deep frown, and his jaw a sharp line of tension. Wordlessly, he pulled up one of the front compartments of the car and then handed Steve a few tissues. He took them gratefully.

“Do you have Rhodey’s number?” Bucky asked in the end, which, okay, wasn’t what Steve had been expecting.

He shook his head, so Bucky instead handed him his own mobile from out of his pocket. “Well I do. I think you should call him. Ask if he knows what’s going on there. That- it sounds like a sort of… I dunno, I don’t want to call it that on a whim, but Rhodey might know more than we do.”

Steve took the phone apprehensively, looking through Bucky’s contacts until finding James Rhodes and hitting dial. It only took a few seconds for the response, the boy’s low voice filling Steve’s ear. “Hello?”

“Hi, James, it’s- uh, it’s me. Steve,” he began, suddenly wondering what the hell he was going to say.

A small pause, and then, “hey Steve. Are you alright, buddy? You sound a bit funny.”

Steve huffed. “That’ll be ‘cause my nose is a little out of action right now. But I’m… I’m fine. Mostly.” When James said nothing, choosing instead to wait, Steve blinked and tried to find the words. “I just had an issue today. With Tony. He, uh, went a bit… weird on me.”

James voice got a few notes lower, more concerned. “Go on.”

“It was because Howard was there,” Steve continued, “and we didn’t know-“

“Oh shit, don’t tell me he saw you,” there was a sudden clattering on the other end of the line, as if Rhodey had stood up suddenly, “Steve, holy shit, is Tony still with you? Get him out, get him out of there right n-“

“No, no, shit, he didn’t see me,” Steve assured him hurriedly, “I went under the bed. Tony’s… I think he’s fine. I left a little while after.”

“You think?” Rhodey pressed, voice getting harder, “why did you leave if you only ‘thought’ he was okay-“

“Hey, look, that’s not… I…” Steve spluttered, suddenly feeling the guilt pooling in his gut. Rhodey was right. He shouldn’t have left. Fuck, what if Tony hadn’t managed to do what Howard had asked? Howard had said he was gonna kill him- and Steve figured that was an exaggeration, but that didn’t matter. Steve had still just left Tony when he needed him.

The phone was pulled out of his hands by Bucky with a short sigh, and then Steve just watched, numb as his friend took over where he couldn’t.

“I’m gonna ask you this, and it’s gonna be blunt as fuck, but I need to know that he hasn’t just treated my best friend like shit for no reason,” Bucky began, eyes on the road as his fingers moved and put Rhodey’s voice on loudspeaker, “Rhodey, do you think Tony has some sort of PTSD that stems from the abuse he got from his dad? Or any other sort of issue like that.”

Steve’s eyes went wide, and he looked over at Bucky. He hadn’t even thought of that.

On the other end, Rhodey just sighed. “Oh shit. What’d he do?”

“Steve, tell him what happened,” Bucky whispered, handing him the phone again.

He looked at the phone nervously. This felt like a breach of trust, and the worry and guilt was slowly piling up. He hadn’t even considered Tony might have been struggling with that on top of everything- he’d just been too angry and hurt to do anything other than leave the situation before he ended up escalating it. It was a habit his therapist had encouraged in him, but now he wished she’d just let that bit slide. He should’ve stayed. Fuck, he should’ve stayed.

“He pushed me off the bed and I hit my nose,” he said quietly, “it looked real bad. But he didn’t… as soon as Howard left, he just pushed me back under and told me to wait there. For three hours. I was bleeding all over the place, I was asking to talk about it, but he wouldn’t. Just walked off.”

All he heard for a few seconds was Rhodey’s breathing, and the sound of the road underneath them.

“Oh, Steve,” Rhodey breathed out his name in the end, and it sounded like a sigh, “I… fuck, okay, long story short- yeah, Bucky, I think you’re right. I never asked him and he’s never said, but I think… I get the same thing, sometimes. Not as bad as what happened here, but sometimes we’re just chilling and then… specific things can set him off. Give him weird sorta-not-really-panic-attacks. Usually the sound of Howard’s car engine, or his shoes on the floor. Sometimes it can be phrases. But he’ll go from relaxed to completely alert in a split second, and suddenly he’ll be telling me I gotta go, or that _he’s_ gotta go, or that we shouldn’t have come out at all.” Rhodey took a pause, and Steve just listened intently, feeling like the phone was glued to his ear. “Steve, buddy, you have to understand… Tony is terrified of him. I mean, _terrified_. Even now he’s bigger and stronger than Howard, he won’t fight back. He’s lived his whole life trying to do what Howard wants, trying not to get himself beat up- he doesn’t realise he can stop it now. He doesn’t think rationally when it comes to that man. He immediately closes off, thinks only in terms of how he’s going to get Howard to leave him alone. No offence, Steve, but at that moment in time, you were pretty low down on his list of priorities. Especially considering what you were almost caught doing. He must have been having a full-blown freakout under that calm exterior.”

Steve swallowed. “So you’re saying… this was some sort of episode? A- a PTSD thing?” The memory came back to him, and he shut his eyes slowly. “Shoes on the floor, you said. They were… that’s what we both woke up to. His shoes on the tiles.”

“Yeah,” Rhodey breathed out a big sigh, “yeah, I think… listen, I don’t wanna start making random diagnoses here, and I’m not a trained professional, but Tony hasn’t been to see one of those in years, and this is- it looks like it. It always has, to me. My dad, he, uh, he served. Sometimes the same things would happen to him.”

Oh God. Steve’s stomach plummeting to his shoes. “And I left him there,” he said dumbly, head falling forward into his hand.

“Steve, do not do that to yourself,” Bucky said immediately, shooting a glance over to him, “you needed to get out as much as he did. You were hurt and whether it was purposeful or not, he still put you in a situation that you couldn’t cope with and then left you.”

“He’s right, Steve,” Rhodey told him gently. His voice sounded sad, weary. “I know the feeling. But you can’t carry the weight of all his problems on your back. You just have to… try and help him. Look, do you want me to go over there-“

“No, no, it’s fine,” Steve told him quickly, scratching his nose absent-mindedly and then gasping in pain, “I need to… I need to talk to him myself. I… thank you, Rhodey.”

Rhodey muttered a goodbye, and Steve hung up with a blank look on his face, trying to swallow the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. He thought back, all those months ago, to the first time that Tony had ever brought him to his home. Back when Steve’d gotten mugged. He’d been confused by the way Tony had scrubbed so desperately at his car, trying to clean off the non-existent dirt. And he’d told Steve to shut up when Steve had asked him about it. Other times, too- like when they’d been talking to one another, and Steve had jokingly called him a useless boy, and Tony’s face had just… blanked. He’d gone home barely even five minutes after. God- Steve had even learned not to grab his wrists too hard, because the one time he had, Tony had wrenched them away and immediately apologized over and over, keeping his head bowed and his gaze on the floor despite doing absolutely nothing wrong. Like it was a knee-jerk reaction.

And Steve hadn’t connected any of the fucking dots. Hadn’t realized it could be anything more than skittishness that often came from abuse survivors.

“Fuck,” he hissed, “Bucky, turn the car around. I gotta go back for him.”

“No, Steve,” Bucky shook his head firmly, and Steve felt the shame start to bubble to the surface as he slammed his hands against the dash.

“Bucky, I left him!”

“Yes, you did! You made the right call-“

“How is this the right call- what if he comes back up there and sees I’m missing and then completely breaks down, huh? I have to go b-“

“Text him and tell him you’re okay and you’re with me, but I’m not driving you back,” Bucky shook his head, “Steve, the situation was dangerous for both of you. Just because he was having a crisis doesn’t make the things that he did to you okay. It might excuse them, but it doesn’t mean you should put yourself back in that environment again.”

Steve gritted his teeth and glared in frustration at his friend. He was right and Steve knew it.  But that didn’t make him feel any better about himself. God, what kind of boyfriend just fucking abandoned their partner when they were in a situation like that? What had he been _thinking?_

Pulling out his own phone and running a hand anxiously through his hair, he pulled up Tony’s contact and began to text out a message, deleting and retyping a few times before eventually coming up with the final piece.

**_Steve:_ ** _Hey, I know you didn’t want me to go, but I did. I’m sorry. I’m with Bucky at his place, I’m safe, I didn’t get spotted. Can you call me when you see this? We need to talk._

It wasn’t perfect, but Steve’s brain wasn’t working well enough to try and make it better, so he just pocketed his phone once it was done and tried desperately not to let his mind go into overdrive with the theories and thoughts about what Tony might be thinking in that moment. Did he already know that Steve was gone? Or was he going to go upstairs once the meeting was done, searching for Steve and coming up blank? Would he panic? What if he didn’t even check his phone?

These worries plagued him for entire trip back, and by the time they arrived at Bucky’s he was a nervous wreck. Bucky wouldn’t hear anything of him returning, however, and simply pulled him inside and then pointed to the kitchen counter, where Steve sat obediently.

“Stop it,” Bucky muttered as he pulled out the frozen peas from the bottom of the freezer and then tossed it onto the side.

“Stop what?”

“Blaming yourself. You had no idea this was going to happen- all you saw was your boyfriend saying he didn’t think you were important enough to worry about. That would be enough to upset anyone. You were perfectly within your rights to walk away.

Steve said nothing, simply swallowed and looked away. There was a dark, petulant part of him that was still a little angry at that. Upset that Tony hadn’t managed to just pull himself together for long enough to offer Steve at least an apology. But it was stupid and irrational and selfish of him to feel that way and he knew it. Tony had been frightened, cornered like a caged animal. He hadn’t been thinking straight. God, some of the shit that Steve had said to Bucky back in the immediate aftermath of his mom’s death would’a put Tony’s simple statements to shame. He hardly had a leg to stand on here.

“I’m gonna clean all this blood off your face,” Bucky told him with a roll of his eyes, “God, I feel like we’re in middle school again.”

Steve laughed shortly. Oh, the days when he’d come back every day with a new shiner. Bucky was now a trained professional in Steve-Rogers-Based First aid. And those sorts of skills were ones you kept with you for life.

He sat back and tried not to flinch as Bucky cleaned him up. The flow of blood had, thankfully, stopped by that point, and all that was left was a nasty purple bruise on the left side of his nose, the darkness seeping into the underside of his eyes just a little. Not his worst nose injury, but it sure wouldn’t be pretty for a week or so.

They retreated into the living room, Bucky flicking on the TV and pulling up Brooklyn Nine-Nine whilst Steve iced the swelling with his bag of peas, but the background noise did little to soothe his anxieties, and his fingers spent the entire period just tapping nervously against the couch, no matter how many times Bucky told him to cut it out and try to relax.

It was two hours and three minutes later when Steve’s phone went off. He grabbed it immediately and Bucky turned his head, automatically turning down the volume.

**_Tony:_ ** _I’m outside. Do you want me to see you? If you don’t I can go. I forgot to ask._

**_Tony:_ ** _I am so so sorry_

**_Tony:_ ** _For everything._

**_Tony:_ ** _Please can I just talk to you, please, just for a minute? I need to see that you’re okay._

 

Steve looked up, and then without another moment’s hesitation he jumped from the couch and headed out of the room, holding a hand out for Bucky to stay where he was as he made his way through the kitchen and toward the door. He couldn’t see anything through the frosted glass of the window, but when he pulled open the door a moment afterward, he spotted Tony a few paces away, hands stuffed rigidly into his pockets as he stared at the ground.

The noise of the door opening registered in Tony’s ears, however, because his head snapped up and his wide eyes looked straight at Steve, something undetectable on his face. Immediately, his gaze went to the bruise on Steve’s nose. It took a second for Tony to go from looking a little pale to entirely washed out, stricken with remorse.

Steve sighed. “It’s f-“

“I am so sorry,” Tony whispered, stumbling forward. Steve half-opened his arms, but Tony froze up a few steps away from him and then scrambled back again, like a skittish animal. “Steve, Jesus Christ, I… I don’t…what did- is it-“

“It’s fine, not broken, just a cut. Could’ve happened to anyone; just unfortunate that’s where I landed, that’s all,” Steve told him, trying to keep his voice calm and reassuring. It didn’t seem to be doing any favours though; Tony just seemed to get more worked up from it.

“I hurt you,” he said, the words alone making Tony flinch a second later, “I can’t believe I-“

“Tony, it was an _accident,”_ Steve told him firmly, shutting the door and then hopping down the steps. Tony took a step back as he went, eyes still horribly wide. His hands were shaking. “You had to get me out of the way, otherwise I would’ve been in a hell of a lot more pain than I am right now. It’s fine. I promise. You did what you had to do and this was just an unlucky coincidence. That wasn’t what I needed to talk to you about.”

Rather than look even remotely relieved, it seemed Tony only grew more miserable. “Okay,” he said quietly, eyes firmly on the floor and jaw in an impossibly tight clench. “I understand. I… thank you for just trying this long, Steve. I didn’t deserve that. I’m just- I’m sorry for putting you through th-“

“Hey, what?” Steve asked in confusion, “what are you talking about?”

Tony still didn’t look at him. “Breaking up.”

It took a split second for Steve’s stomach to plummet right down to his shoes. He froze up, feeling a horrible tightness start to wrap around his heart, and his feet had stumbled down the steps before he knew what he was doing, hand almost going out to reach for Tony before he stopped himself in fear. “What do you- I don’t understand, what do you mean, ‘breaking up’? Why would you want to do that?”

That, at the very least, got Tony to look up at him. His eyes were shiny and his lips pursed, like he was trying to hold back tears. “Why _wouldn’t you?_ Steve, I shoved you under my bed and ordered to you stay there for three hours. I didn’t even… and I came back and there was blood all over my fucking room and you were gone and I was just-“

“Tony,” Steve reached forward and took the hand that Tony was fisting into his own hair, gently prying off the fingers before he could hurt himself, “Tony, sweetheart, calm down. Just breathe. It’s okay now. It’s done. Everything is fine.”

 _“Everything is not fine,”_ Tony hissed, “Steve, I can’t keep treating you like shit and then expecting you to stay, it’s not fair, I’m not treating you right, I keep fucking up-“

“Hey, hey,” Steve frowned and pulled him in, tight, leaning up onto his tiptoes and wrapping his arms around Tony’s shoulders, “it’s okay. I’m staying with you because I love you and I want to. You need to calm down so that we can talk, okay? You’ve had a stressful day. We’ve both done things we shouldn’t have, and now we need to work through it and sort it out.”

Tony stood there, rigid as a post against Steve for another second or two, before eventually giving in and melting into him in the way Steve knew he would. His hands came up and curled tentatively around Steve’s waist, and his head fell forward, resting upon Steve’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “Steve, I’m so so sorry-“

“Stop apologizing,” Steve told him, kissing his cheek softly, “it was a panic response to a bad situation.” He paused, biting his lip a little. “I think it’s something that we do need to talk about, though.”

Tony stilled in his arms, then just nodded, subdued. “Whatever you want,” he mumbled.

“Okay- how did the meeting with those clients go?” Steve asked him, pulling away and then looking Tony up and down in worry. He was still wearing the smart clothes; must have come straight here once it was done. He didn’t look like he was sporting any injuries though, which was comforting. “Did it go okay?”

Tony looked away, shaking his head. “I tried. I didn’t… there were just so many other things going on in my head and I wanted to go back and find you, and I was- I was on edge from what had just happened, and I couldn’t focus and so I had to make Howard step back in and take it while I left.” Tony laughed humourlessly. “He’s gonna fucking kill me for that later.”

“You’re staying with me tonight then,” Steve told him simply, and before Tony could even argue, he just strode ahead, “also- and forgive me if this is too invasive, but I figure that I deserve to know these things: What are your triggers, Tony? Do you know?”

Tony stilled. “I don’t have-“

“Yes, you do,” Steve said gently, “please. Don’t try and hide this. That... wasn’t a normal nervous response. You weren’t even looking at me when you told me to stay where I was. You weren’t in the room, not really. And I don’t blame you for that, okay, but I still need to know a little bit about it. For my safety and yours.”

Tony didn’t say anything. He looked off to the side of Steve, swallowing and keeping his eyes fixed on a random point of Bucky’s house. Steve just waited for him.

“It was his shoes,” Tony admitted in the end, his voice barely above a whisper, “today, it was the sound of his shoes. I always learned how he walked- ever since I was like, five. His sober walk and his drunk walk. I… and then there was you, as well. You were there, and I knew if he saw you it would just… and I was scared. And I thought he was going to find us. And-“ he shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets, “-something clicked in my head. I just reacted. I had to. I always have to react, or something- something bad happens.”

Steve nodded slowly as Tony sighed and then turned away. His head was down and his shoulders hunched, and he walked a few steps away from Steve in order to glare intently at his bike, parked messily by the curb in front of Bucky’s house. “There’s something wrong with me,” he declared in the end, before laughing, “well, there’s a lot of things wrong with me. But that- I don’t know. That’s dangerous, Steve. You saw that today. I didn’t care about hurting you. I just wanted to keep myself out of trouble.”

It was probably a little inappropriate, but Steve just grinned. “Wanna hear a fucked up story?”

Tony paused, and then his eyes shifted back to Steve curiously.

“A week after mom died I nearly got Peggy killed,” he said simply, trying to avoid the way that still made him feel sick, even to this day, “we were arguing and I wasn’t- I wasn’t myself, and I wasn’t thinking straight, and she tried to take my hand but I shoved her off me, right off the curb and onto the road.” He kept himself still and tried not to flinch at his own words, still remembering the sudden spike of complete rage that had caused him to shove her off him. “I wasn’t intending on it. I didn’t aim to push her there. But I did, and it happened, and luckily there were no cars coming to kill her. But I still did it. And afterward, when she looked at me, you know what I did?” He chuckled humourlessly. “I turned my back and walked off. It was a good few hours later before I snapped out of it and realised what I’d done.”

He could still see the look on her face, even now. He didn’t think he was ever going to forget it. But he recited the words that his therapist had told him, when he’d spoken to her about on the phone that night, his voice quiet and broken as he’d huddled in the corner of the room and asked himself whether he could even recognize himself any more. “Trauma does things to people, Tony. Bad things. Your mind is physically altered by what happened, and it changes you. Does that make you a bad person? No. But it makes you a person who needs help and support to try and change. I got therapy, Tony. I talked to my friends about it.” He stepped forward, moving over to Tony’s side and winding their fingers together. “You need to talk to me, sweetheart. Don’t push me out and try to handle the situation yourself. It’ll get my back up, and we’ll end up in the situation that we were in a few hours ago, with you giving me orders that I can’t follow and me getting angry over it.”

Tony nodded. “I know,” he said, “I’m sorry. I- I just feel like I never get it right with you. Like I’m always fucking up. You don’t… you never say anything, you never complain, but Jesus _Christ_ I am a mess. Issues on top of my issues, and you’re just taking the brunt of it all. It’s selfish.”

“It’d be selfish if I wasn’t as invested as you were,” Steve told him firmly, “it’d be selfish if you were making me stay, making me help you for your own gain. You’re not. I’m choosing this. I’m choosing to love you, to be with you, flaws and all.” He smiled wryly, knocking their shoulders together, “and hey- it’s not as if I’m without my fair share of issues, right? I’m sure the time will come when I fuck something up big-time, and you’re gonna have to be around to pick up the pieces. Just ask Bucky. He’s got a hell of a lotta stories to tell you.”

Tony, for the first time, smiled. Soft and small, he looked over to Steve and squeezed their hands together gently, before the smile faded once more and he turned into Steve, thumb tracing almost imperceptibly soft underneath Steve’s eye. “I promise I’m gonna make this right,” he said, “I’m not… I know you think I’m ashamed of you, that I don’t want to be seen with you, but I’ll fix that, I will, I’m going to-“

“I don’t think any of that, don’t be stupid,” Steve rolled his eyes fondly and smoothed his hand over Tony’s collar, “I just want you to try and help yourself, that’s all. Maybe think about seeing a therapist again. They could help sort through everything. Help you.”

Tony just huffed, making a small humming noise that was neither an agreement nor a refusal. Steve figured that they’d have to work on that particular one- but that was okay. He knew these things took time.

He tugged Tony’s hand and pulled him forward, kissing him gently. It hurt, because his nose was still throbbing at any light contact, but it was worth it anyway. Tony kissed him back just as soft and tentative, like he was still nervous Steve was going to turn around and push him off any moment.

“Come inside,” he said a few moments later, pulling away with a final light press of lips, “we’ll hang out at Bucky’s for a few hours and then go home, how does that sound?”

Tony just looked at him sceptically. His face was still pale and washed out, and he looked dead on his feet by that point. They’d only ended up being able to nap for about ten or fifteen minutes, in the end. Tony was still running on almost no sleep. Steve looked over to the boy’s bike on the road with a small frown. He didn’t like the thought of Tony riding like that, and- “wait, Tony, where is your helmet?”

“Uh-“ Tony blinked, opening and shutting his mouth, “well, I didn’t really… I was sort of preoccupied, Steve-“

“What the fuck!” Steve shoved him irritably, glaring at Tony, “you said you’d start wearing it!”

“I do wear it!”

“Just not when you’re sleep deprived and on-edge and ten times more likely to crash the thing, of course-“

“Oh, come on, I built her from scratch, she won’t crash.” Tony laughed sheepishly and then pouted at Steve when he just pushed him again, not exactly getting him very far considering he weighed about half of what Tony did, but still- it was the sentiment that counted. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll wear it next time I ride.”

“Well that’s a lie, you’re gonna be riding over to mine without one, aren’t you?” Steve grumbled, taking his hand and pulling him over to the door of Bucky’s place. “I’m gonna glue the thing onto your head while your sleeping next time, I swear to God.”

Tony laughed, gentle and tired. “Then how will you kiss me?”

“I’d just kiss you in other places,” Steve said simply, before opening the door and then pushing Tony inside, “go sit down. I’ll make you some food, okay?”

Tony hovered at the threshold, however, his face falling once more. “Is- uh- I take it Bucky isn’t too happy with me,” he said, eyes flitting nervously around the space, “which, you know- this one is valid, I’m not gonna… but I probably shouldn’t-“

“He was the one who told me that it might be- that there might be something deeper going on with it all, actually,” Steve said with a shrug, “I can admit, I was a little too hurt to be objective at the time. Bucky… well. He likes you, you know? You’re friends. Even if you both try and tell us otherwise.” He patted Tony’s arm and then slipped past him, heading for Bucky’s kitchen. “He’ll probably ignore you. He’s watching Brooklyn nine-nine.”

Tony just sighed. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said, which was probably all he’d heard before shutting off. Steve bit back on the urge to groan in despair- Tony was the king of self-blame, and no doubt he’d be feeling guilty about this for weeks to come.

Steve turned on his heel and then pressed his finger up against his mouth, kissing it and then brushing it over Tony’s mouth. It hurt less than the other sort of kissing that involved moving his nose. “Go and relax,” he said again, I’m gonna make us food, and you’re not going to apologize about anything for the rest of the night, okay?”

Mutely, Tony nodded, taking Steve’s wrist before he could turn away and then leaning down, lips brushing feather-soft over Steve’s fresh cut on the side of his nose.

Steve stayed still, shutting his eyes and feeling Tony’s presence as the other boy rested his forehead gently against Steve’s for a few seconds, before pulling away with a tight smile and then wandering over into Bucky’s living room, slipping inside quietly. He was subdued and still upset, Steve could tell. Steve had never really experienced that sort of thing, but he knew what panic attacks felt like, and although they were different to PTSD, he still knew how long the feeling could linger for.

When he went back into the living room five minutes later with his stack of food, he saw Bucky with his legs thrown over Tony’s lap and casually watching TV as Tony himself just sat up straight and tried not to let his eyes fall shut with the exhaustion. Steve smiled in fond exasperation; a minute longer, and Tony was just going to keel over.

He put the tray on Bucky’s chest and then stole the bag of cookies from it before his best friend could wrap his greedy hands from it. Bucky just whined and shot him the middle finger, which Steve maturely decided to ignore. He made himself comfortable next to Tony, and then grabbed the blanket from the side of the couch, wrapping them both up in it and pulling Tony sideways into his chest.

“Sleep, darling,” he said quietly, carding his fingertips through Tony’s hair whilst the other one gently worked his tie loose, setting it down over the armrest, “you’re safe here. I promise.”

Tony hummed, the vibration tickling Steve’s neck. “I know,” he said through a breath of air, and then a second later, Steve felt him go limp. Fast asleep.

Steve looked down at him, fondness and worry and love and concern all warring in his head as he continued to stroke through Tony’s hair. When he looked up, he saw Bucky watching them, the same sort of concern mirrored on his face. “He alright?” He asked quietly, careful not to disturb the sleeping boy, “he was really tense when he came in. You two talked it out, right?”

Steve just nodded, wrapping his arm around Tony’s waist. “Think he’s still shaken up by all of it,” he explained with a heavy feeling in his heart, “it was a really close call. He must’ve been terrified.”

Bucky just nodded soberly. “He can stay over here tonight if the Wilsons can’t host him. My parents won’t mind.”

Steve just shook his head. “It’s alright, I already asked ahead. They said it was fine. Plus the school commute from Brooklyn to Manhattan would be a nightmare.” He cracked a small smile. “Thanks, though. Big of you, considering you two are apparently sworn enemies.”

Bucky just grunted, uncrossing and then re-crossing his legs over Tony’s lap. “S’pose he’s not that bad, really,” he muttered eventually, and then propelled a peanut across the room when Steve just grinned, “shut up, punk.”

Steve let Tony sprawl over him and sleep for four hours, not even allowing himself to get up and pee. Tony’s warmth seeped into his bones, and when he curled into Steve’s chest with his whole body wrapped up in Steve’s own, he looked so much slighter and more defenceless. His closed eyes fluttered with dreams, and Steve watched his eyelashes twitch and curl, enchanted by it. Tony looked beautiful all the time, but there was something particularly heart-wrenching about seeing him sleep. He was altogether more child-like; he clung onto Steve and buried himself in blankets, and more than once Steve had woken up and turned around to face him, and only ended up seeing a tuft of dark brown curls, everything else buried under pillows and sheets.

Bucky called him a creep when he spotted Steve looking, but Steve just flipped him off and called him a voyeur, which seemed to do the trick, because Bucky made a face and then turned away again, muttering under his breath and pulling out his phone to undoubtedly bitch about it to Natasha.

Eventually, Tony stirred again. Nudging his nose against Steve’s shirt a few times, he sniffled and then pawed a clumsy hand over his face. Steve watched with a smile, setting his hand down against the back of Tony’s neck. “Hello again,” he said, “how was your nap?”

Tony, still not really awake, just sighed and then pushed his head into Steve again, pulling the blanket up a little further around him. “Mmm.”

“Yeah, sounds about right. You’ve been asleep for about four hours.”

Tony’s head jerked. “What? Are you serious?”

“Yeah, baby,” Steve laughed and looked down at him fondly, “you were exhausted.”

Tony just paused, eyes locking back in on the growing purple mark on the left side of Steve’s nose. His face fell, the memories obviously coming back to him. Steve braced himself for the inevitable deluge of apologies but, at the sight of Steve’s face, Tony seemed to think better of it. Instead, he just traced the mark gently with his finger. “How does it feel?” He asked, guilt evident in his eyes.

“Fine,” Steve lied, “it’s probably worse than it looks. I get nosebleeds easy, don’t I Bucky?”

“S’true,” his friend said from across the room, not taking his eyes off the TV, “I figure he was just born with double the amount’a blood, and he has to find ways to get rid of some of it or he’ll die.”

Tony barked out a surprised laugh, pointing a raised eyebrow Steve’s way. “That doesn’t sound scientifically accurate,” he said.

“You wanna do some experiments?” Steve asked smoothly, making Tony laugh once more.

Across the room, Bucky gagged loudly. “Not in my house, you kinky weirdos! Go roleplay somewhere else.”

Steve’s chin tilted as he gave his friend a pout. “Fine,” he said, taking Tony’s hand, “we’ll go back to my place then. I feel like we’ve crashed your Netflix binge enough for the day. We’ll leave you to it, huh?”

Bucky nodded. “Got that right. I swear to God, running after you is costing me a fortune in gas.”

“If I remember correctly, you bought that car _specifically_ to run around after me.”

“Quit makin’ everything about yourself and go make out with your boyfriend somewhere else,” Bucky told him with a wave of his hand, before stopping and then actually turning around. “Wait- before you go, Tony, you wanna go pick some stuff outta my closet to wear tomorrow? You could probably get some from Sam, but his sizes might be a bit small for you.”

Tony looked at him blankly. “Huh?”

In answer, Bucky just waved a hand over to Steve. “You’re stayin’ the night over at his. Figure you might want to head to school in something that isn’t a suit.”

Tony whirled around to look at Steve. “Uh, since when was I- Steve, I don’t need to stay over with you, it’s f-“

“Tony, don’t even bother,” Steve told him simply, pulling Tony along with him as Bucky got up and then ran upstairs to his wardrobe, “you’re staying with me, okay? You said the meeting didn’t go that well, and honestly, as a general rule I’d rather eat my own shoes than have you live with Howard Stark, but tonight that desire has been cranked up a notch or two.” He paused, two stairs above Tony so that they were at an even height. “Please?” He asked, putting on his softest puppy eyes, “just for me?”

Tony looked at him, unimpressed. “That’s not fair. Don’t pull that face.”

In response, Steve pulled it harder. Tony just rolled his eyes and then threw up his hands, seemingly defeated. “Okay, okay. I’ll… if that’s really okay with you and the Wilsons, I- I’d like that, thank you.”

Steve grinned, kissing his forehead. “Good,” he said, bouncing up the stairs again, “now let’s get you a spare change of clothes.”

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

As a matter of principal, Paul had made Tony sleep on the couch.

 

“Sorry,” he said with a shrug, as he’d pulled out the blanket and spare pillow, “I used to make Sam and his old girlfriend do it. We know what you kids are like, that’s all.”

Tony just smiled, taking the pillow. “Don’t worry about it. Thank you for letting me stay at all. It’s very generous of you.”

Mr Wilson laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “I’d be a bit of a bastard if I didn’t let my son have his boyfriend over sometimes, wouldn’t I?” He said with a smile, before ruffling Steve on the head and then beginning to walk out of the living room. “Just make sure to get enough sleep, Steve. It’s school tomorrow.”

He nodded. “I will. Night, Mr. Wilson.”

The man closed the door with a gentle snick, leaving Tony and Steve in the living room. Steve was already in his pyjamas- it was already 11pm by that point in the night, and Steve was tired. Unfortunately, it seemed he was actually going to have to do as Paul said and get to bed soon.

Tony sat slowly onto the couch, grinning up at Steve with a little embarrassment. “I’m feeling a slight sense of déjà vu here,” he admitted, “although to be fair, the memories of this room the first time around are a lot blurrier.”

“At least you’re not drunk and crying this time,” Steve told him, sitting down beside him and then leaning their shoulders together, “always like it when you’re not doing that.”

Tony laughed. “Yeah, me too.”

They leaned against one another for a few moments; Steve’s head fitted perfectly into the crook of Tony’s shoulder. Eventually however, when Steve yawned massively, he decided to call it a night. Standing up with bleary eyes, he pressed his hand against Tony’s face and then kissed him once more. It still hurt his nose, but it was worth it.

“G’night,” he mumbled, “love you. Try get some sleep, ‘kay?”

Tony leaned forward and looked up at him with a small smile, and for a second, Steve felt like he hung the stars in the sky- at least, that was the way that Tony was gazing at him. “Kay,” he responded, taking Steve’s hand and pressing a kiss against his wrist. He shut his eyes slowly, listening to the pulse. “Still don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he murmured, before letting Steve’s hand slid out of his fingers.

 _‘You don’t deserve me,’_ Steve wanted to tell him, _‘you deserve someone so much more- but until you find them, I’m going to give you all I can’._

Instead, he just smiled. “You made me happier,” he said simply, before drifting out of the room, feeling Tony’s eyes on his back as he left.

 

His absence, however, didn’t last long.

 

Since his mom’s death, you see, Steve’s subconscious had a tendency of being a real bitch to him. Night terrors and bad dreams had plagued him a lot, during the first few months, leaving him sleepless and terrified of what he would see when he shut his eyes. They’d died down a little since then, but Steve still suffered from them from time to time.

Which was why he woke up at 10-past-midnight, gasping for breath and clutching so tightly at the sheets he thought he would rip them.

He choked in shock, sitting bolt-upright and wheezing in a deep breath, feeling the pain spike through his nose when it irritated his sensitive skin. His room was pitch-dark and so he scrabbled for the light, shaking fingers yanking it on and then making him wince when the yellow glow hit his tired eyes.

He breathed in again, this time through his mouth. In his mind’s eye, he could still see Tony. In his mind’s eye, Howard had followed through with his threat.

In his mind’s eye, he’d dreamed that Tony was dead, and Steve was horribly, _achingly_ alone again.

With a small groan, he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, uncaring off the way it pulled at his sore nose. The feelings of the dreams were often worse than the images themselves. Steve dreamed in emotions, of the pain of it, the complete and all-consuming loneliness that was still weighing heavy on his heart, even now he’d woken up.

“Not real,” he mumbled, thinking back to what he’d been told: ground yourself. Ground yourself to reality. Show your mind it was wrong.

Tony. He needed…

Yanking off the bedsheets clumsily, he stumbled out of bed and then pushed his door open, padding down the stairs in complete darkness. He was still half-asleep, second-guessing whether or not the entire thing had just been a dream and he was going to open the door to the living room and find that no one was even there, and never had been.

But when he did slip through the entrance to the living room, he did in fact see Tony. Safe and well, sleeping peacefully on the couch with the blanket curled over his shoulders.

Steve couldn’t help it; he whimpered with relief. It was pathetic, really- just a stupid nightmare, not even real. But it sure had felt as if it was at the time. He could still see the sight of it in the back of his head, and knew that particular image would not be leaving him for a while.

He took a step forward, moving around the couch and keeping his jaw clenched tightly to stop from crying out with the sense of lingering distress. It was stupid, stupid stupid stupid, but he wanted to sob. The emotions that had been left behind were still there, with no outlet to conduct them to. What he ended up with was a frustrated sort of fear, caught between trying to tell himself to pull it together and simply bursting into tears.

Below him, Tony stirred, his senses catching on to the sound of movement in the room. Steve just watched as the boy’s eyes fluttered open, taking Steve in with a blink of surprise. “Steve?” He croaked, “what are y-“

“Can I stay here for a bit,” Steve asked mutely, standing tense in front of him. Tony frowned, sitting up a little and then extending a hand automatically. Steve took it, ridiculously grateful for the contact of warm skin against warm skin.

“Of course you can,” Tony said, and all Steve could think was _you’re okay you’re okay you’re okay,_ “wait- sweetheart, you’re shaking. What’s wrong?”

He pulled Steve further forward, and Steve just went gladly, letting his knees buckle as he fell into Tony’s lap and then pressed the side of his cheek into the other boy’s shoulder. Tony curled around him immediately; an embrace that screamed protection, whilst his hands just trailed soothingly over Steve’s spine.

“Sorry,” Steve muttered, “just a nightmare. Get ‘em sometimes.”

Tony nodded, understanding dawning. “Oh. Yeah. I figured.” He paused, and then explained. “You sometimes… in the night. I hear you. You usually stop when I-“ he pulled back a little, looking at Steve questioningly before he raised his hand and settled it over Steve’s heart. “I’m here,” he said softly, leaning forward and kissing Steve’s forehead, “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

Tony had no idea what it was that Steve had dreamt of, but he still knew exactly what to say to make it better. The gestures felt almost familiar- Steve supposed this must be what Tony did when he had nightmares whilst they slept together. The thought warmed him, even in the cold of the night. Tony must… he really cared.

Steve shut his eyes and leaned forward, sagging into Tony’s embrace. The boy held him up easily, kissing softly along his hairline in a comforting gesture of contact the calmed Steve further with every touch. After a minute or two, Tony gently manoeuvred Steve on his lap and lay them both back down again, Steve’s back pressed up against Tony’s bare chest. Tony kissed the underside of his clenched jaw and wrapped his hands around the skinny expanse of Steve’ waist, shrouded by a baggy shirt. Steve, curled tightly into Tony, their arms both hanging off the side of the couch, just let out a small sigh of comfort.

It was okay. Only a dream. That was all.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” Tony murmured through a yawn of his own, “I’ve got you. Promise.”

Steve turned and looked at him from over his shoulder, watching Tony’s eyes begin to slide shut as his head fell back onto the pillow.

He knew that Tony wasn’t lying. Even Steve, with his self-worth issues about five miles wide, knew that Tony wasn’t lying.

That said a lot about the levels of Tony’s devotion, really.

He moved his hand, cupping it around Tony’s face and stroking his jaw as they both slowly drifted back into a sleep, this time wrapped up in one another’s arms; Steve clad in his baggy T-shirt and Tony with nothing but his boxers.

“I’ve got you too, you know,” he murmured, before dropping his hand and letting his head fall against Tony’s arm.


	11. Chapter 11

Steve had always used to enjoy December.

It had probably been unwise. Sick, skinny, asthmatic little Steve, begging and begging to play out in the freezing cold with Bucky. He’d spent hours and hours just looking through the windows at all the huge shop displays covered in tinsel and snow. December meant Christmas, and everyone was always happier at Christmas. Even his mom, who was always usually so tired from her work, seemed to have that little extra spring in her step. Sometimes she’d come home with cookies she’d pilfered from her office, and Steve remembers vividly how he’d firmly believed that it was Santa giving his mom those cookies throughout the month. She’d always made up the most imaginative stories about it- tales of reindeer flying up to the roof of her building, doling out cookies for the workers and then running off again to recommence with the Christmas preparations. He’d always thought his mom was the best mom in the world when she’d come home and given them to him instead. Thought it was the kindest thing a person could do- especially seeing as the gifts had come from Santa himself, and she could have just kept them all to herself.

Of course, as he got older, those little fantasies stopped holding so much appeal, but the warmth that surrounded Christmas still remained. It had been the month where everyone just got that little bit kinder. That little bit more giving. And even better than that, it had also been the month when Sarah Rogers would always be let off work a few hours earlier, coming home to Steve with a big hug and a bigger smile, immediately burying herself into blankets and asking Steve about his day, how he’d been, whether he was okay.

His mom had been one of his best friends. Steve had loved the month of December more than anything, mostly because of her.

Of course, the final Christmas that Steve had got to spend with her was both better and worse. They’d had no idea that it was about to get so bad so fast, and so she’d still been at work, slogging away at her desk. Although due to her illness, they had ended up giving her a lot more leave and working her earlier hours, meaning that Steve had managed to spend more time with her during that month than any other December previously. Of course though, Steve hadn’t cherished it in the way he should’ve. Fifteen and selfish, he’d spent a lot of his time out with Bucky and Peggy, hanging out with them as opposed to looking after his mom like he should’ve been. She never held it against him- in fact, she’d always been glad when he went out- but that was beside the point. The final month that Steve would ever get to spend with her, and he hadn’t treasured every moment like it was sacred. He’d just wasted it.

That still haunted him.

He’d taken what he could, though, and despite the new weight that had settled on him that year as his mother’s health had continued to deteriorate, he’d still managed to enjoy it. Because it was Christmas, and because Christmas meant happiness and home and his Mom’s stupid cookies that she continued to insist had come directly from Santa, even when Steve had long since stopped believing.

 

When he woke up and saw the date- December 1st – however, he knew that this Christmas was going to be different.

This December, he was spending it without her.

 

That thought, of course, set him off. He figured it had been a long time coming anyway; the darkness and the cold of the winter months rarely helped with his mood, and lately things had just been looking a little bleaker in general. It was always a hard thing to describe- that low feeling that came about for no reason, and then refused to leave you alone. Sometimes he felt as if he was just exaggerating it. Christ, there were people like Tony in the world who had actual things to be sad over, but then there was Steve, pouting and sulking over a feeling he couldn’t even give an explanation for. He rarely even told his therapist, when that happened. He knew she’d try and make him find a reason, and Steve didn’t quite know how to tell her that he was just…

Well. Sometimes he was just sad.

Of course, this case was a little different. The whole dead-mom thing was admittedly, quite a big thing to get upset over, and not even Steve could deny that much. Sometimes he wondered whether it was normal. To still feel it, just as viscerally, just as painfully as if it had been the very first day he’d found the news. Maybe he was weak. Pathetic.

Maybe he’d just loved his mom very, very much.

Either way- those feelings still came flooding into him, almost from the moment he woke up and saw the date flashing on his alarm clock. They followed him to breakfast and lingered in the corner of his room as he got changed, and it was with a resigned sort of sigh that he eventually gave up trying to ignore it and pull himself away from those thoughts.

It was a Sunday. He wasn’t exactly going to be doing anything worthwhile today anyway. And he was tired.

He went back to bed.

Monday, he supposed, could’ve been worse. He didn’t get into any fights and he didn’t gather himself any detentions. He did pretty well, all things considered. He was a little quieter, a little more subdued, but he told everyone he was just tired. Sick with a bug. It was easier than telling them that just socializing was suddenly ten times harder than it should be, and his brain felt empty of all possible conversation. There was nothing to say. He didn’t want to talk.

His friends patted him on the back and told him to get some sleep when he got home, and Tony kissed him on the cheek and told him with a small grin that he better not catch Steve’s germs, and Steve smiled back with a roll of his eyes, sinking into Tony’s hug and letting himself be held for a few moments.

But then Tony had to leave; a lab experiment that was very time sensitive, and Steve told him not to blow himself up, and Tony pinky-sweared before walking off with his hands in his pockets and his hair dancing in the wind. Steve just watched him go, along with most of the rest of the kids in the parking lot. Tony drew attention like a magnetic attraction, and at any one point there were always eyes on him.

He made his way down to the bus stop once Tony had disappeared, telling Zeke to fuck off when he said something to his friends about Steve that made them all laugh. Then he got the bus, got home, and fell back into bed.

It went like that for a few days.

It was Thursday by the time he finally made the decision to go visit his mom again. It had been too long since his last visit, and in a way, he thought it might just be nice to see her again. To talk to her in the way he’d used to, even if there was no one to respond now. He thought about asking Bucky or Peggy or Tony to come with him- but they were all busy or out of town, and Steve didn’t want to bother them. He could do it alone. He had every other time.

He went to school cold in a way that couldn’t just be fixed by warm sweaters and lots of layers, but tried to put it out of his mind for the duration of the day. He smiled at Peter when he bumped into the kid on the corridors, poked Natasha when she was being annoying, and although he didn’t see Tony much that day, he made sure to kiss him goodbye and tell him to enjoy the lecture he was going to be attending in Vermont that night.

He didn’t really feel like himself. He felt like the autopilot version, coded to respond in the ways that he should. It was a familiar sensation. He knew it would pass.

It was still hard to watch himself slip into that mode, though.

The bell rang for last period and he was one of the first to slip out, going as inconspicuously as he could to avoid potential conversation. He wasn’t really sure why. Perhaps some sort of self-sabotaging thing, because really, more than anything he just wished he had someone to talk to right now. Someone to see him and just… care.

And it was stupid. All his friends cared, and all he had to do was ask. But he just couldn’t. He couldn’t put himself in that position of vulnerability. They were all busy anyways. He wasn’t going to bother them with his own shitty mood.

Walking out of the school grounds rapidly, he zipped up his jacket and hoisted his bag high onto his shoulders, keeping his head down to avoid the sharp winds that bit at any exposed area of skin. He should really have brought a warmer jacket, but he hadn’t exactly been thinking particularly straight that morning, so sue him. The cold wasn’t so bad anyway. It stung at first, but then your skin just went numb and you stopped caring. The cold was familiar, in a way. Steve had been cold his entire damn life.

He walked over a frozen puddle on his way across the road and cursed in dismay. As he turned his head to stare mutinously down at the offending section of water, however, someone caught his eye. It was a familiar figure; tall and large, with flowy golden hair that was now rather bedraggled from the rain. He was stood by his car with his hood up, smoking what looked like a joint as his hands fumbled around in the inside compartment of his car door.

“Thor?” Steve blurted in surprise, and the boy’s head jerked over to him, eyes going wide before they registered it was only Steve and relaxed, “what are you doing down here?” He looked down at his watch. If Thor had managed to get all the way down to the bottom of the hill in the two minutes that school had ended, and been there for long enough to light up, then the guy must’ve goddamn sprinted.

Thor just looked at him for a moment, before grinning bashfully and then taking the joint out of his mouth. “Uh,” he began, “I took a very long toilet break. About fifteen minutes ago. That ended up taking me over to my car. And you know, I was already there, so I thought I might as well just stay until the end of class, y’know?”

Steve couldn’t help but smile a little as he looked pointedly at the joint between his fingers. “Yeah,” he told Thor, “that totally sounds like the reason.”

Thor smiled, but it faded a little as he sighed and then blew out smoke. “Dumb decision anyway,” he muttered, “now I can’t even drive. Stupid.”

Steve frowned, walking forward. “Thor, are you okay? You told me you don’t smoke unless you’re, y’know… sad. Or stressed.”

He expected some sort of rebound comment that passed it off, maybe a smile. Thor always seemed to smile. Except today. His face just seemed tight now. Tired. He pulled the spliff back up to his mouth, but just as he was about to purse his lips around it, Steve watched a large drop of rain fall and land directly on the lit end. Thor cursed loudly, looking down at it with a glare so fierce Steve was almost afraid of him for a second.

Eventually, Thor just huffed and dropped the joint, stepping on it under his foot. “Fucking hate the rain,” he muttered quietly.

Steve looked at him for a moment, and when Thor caught his eye they both gave one another a tired smile. “Rough day, huh?” Steve asked, glancing up to the dark sky.

“Something like that, yeah,” Thor said with a huff, “what about you, Steve? Where are you headed off so fast?”

For a moment, Steve thought of just lying. Telling him something normal, like a doctor’s appointment or a chore he had to get done as soon as possible.

He wasn’t sure what stopped him, really. Maybe it was because Thor was looking at him as if he just needed someone to talk to, about anything at all. Maybe because Thor had helped Steve before even knowing him, at a party full of people that were more worth his time than Steve had been. Maybe it was just because Thor was a friend, and Steve really didn’t want to have to deal with this on his own right now.

“Gonna visit my mom,” he said simply, swallowing and looking down, “she- uh… we both loved December, back when... and it’s been a while since I visited, so. Yeah.”

Thor didn’t say anything for a moment, and they both stood somewhat awkwardly in front of each other in the freezing rain as the kids from the top of the hill slowly started to make their way down toward them. Steve wondered what was going through Thor’s head- usually the boy had so much to say, and there was never a quiet moment at all. Steve wasn’t too sure what could have caused this.

“Oh,” Thor managed to come up with in the end, “oh, that’s…”

“Depressing?” Steve said with a wry smile, “yeah, it kinda is. But it might help me. And someone’s gotta keep her grave nice and tidy, or she’d go nuts.” He laughed nervously, before thinking about how weird that must have sounded to Thor. Most people didn’t talk about the dead as if they were still alive.

But Thor just smiled, like he understood. “You? Being organized? God, she must have been a scary woman.”

“Yeah,” Steve laughed quietly, “yeah, she was terrifying if you got on the wrong side of her, for sure. And God forbid you didn’t take out the trash when she asked- you’d think I just got up and spat all over the window or something.”

Silence fell once more; Steve shuffling backward and forward on his feet and Thor just nodding absently, looking at something over Steve’s shoulder. Feeling like the conversation was drawing to a close, he opened his mouth to say a goodbye- but Thor beat him to it.

“You want some company?”

Steve blinked, thinking over the question as Thor just looked at him with a set of raised eyebrows. His hoodie was getting soaked through- he had to be freezing just stood there like that. “Well,” Steve began, “it’s not exactly going to be- uh- much fun.”

In response, all he got was a shrug. “That’s why I want to be there for you, dummy. And I’d like… a friend would be cool for me too right now, you know.” Thor pulled a face, as if the admittance in itself was stupid. Steve realized how very rare it was to hear Thor actually ask for anything at all- usually it was Thor doing the giving, pulling favours and support out of his seemingly endless supply. In fact, Steve didn’t think he’d ever even seen Thor have an off-day before. Which was stupid, really, because Thor had just as many problems as the rest of them.   
Steve wondered how much the boy hid about himself in order to give his friends the person that they needed.

“I’d like that,” he said with a nod, and Thor looked surprised for a second- as if he’d expected Steve to reject him in his moment of weakness, “I, uh, I’ve been trying to give myself an excuse to ask someone to come along all day, but…” he puffed out his cheeks and then blew sharply, looking sheepish, “pride and all that. Don’t really want to have to ask for- well, anything, really.”

Thor nodded, pushing his hair back from his face and then rubbing two fingers over his eyes. Steve saw that there were purpling bruises over his knuckles. “Yeah, I know how you feel,” he responded, before sighing and then giving Steve another tight smile, “are you heading there right now?”

Steve glanced at his watch. “Yeah, and the next bus is in about two minutes, so-“

Thor took the hint, starting forward and then falling into line with Steve with a weary smile. “Well, shall we?” He said, gesturing forward, “I would certainly love to meet the maker of Steve Rogers.”

He breathed out and smiled, happy and sad at the same time. “Let’s go,” he agreed, hoisting up his bag and then starting to walk again- this time accompanied by a 6-foot wall of silent support.

Thor didn’t say much on the way there, and neither did Steve. They both knew that there wasn’t really much need; Thor obviously didn’t feel in the mood to exude his usual jolly persona, and Steve was too tired to try and coax a conversation out of either of them. But they sat next to each other on the bus ride there, knees just touching, and Steve let himself be comforted by the thought that he didn’t have to do this whole charade on his own now.

It was still raining, even when they arrived at his mom’s grave nearly an hour later. Wintry darkness was already starting to fall, and Steve didn’t have long before they’d have to go back home, if only to stop from freezing. He hoped that Thor wasn’t going to be bored by this. He could imagine it would be fairly dull, for someone who had never known who Sarah Rogers even was.

Seeing the stone lying there was, as usual, a punch to the gut. Steve sniffed and then cleared his throat, wiping all the rain off his face and then absent-mindedly straightening his shirt out. “Here we are,” he said casually, looking over to Thor, “I… uh, I just gotta clear away some of the- the weeds and stuff.”

Thor nodded. “Want some help?” He asked, their shoulders bumping as the boy leaned sideways.

Steve looked between his friend and the soaking wet, muddy grave. “It’s fine, you’ll get filthy and your clothes are-“

But Thor was, of course, already moving, getting to his knees in the sodden earth beside her little plaque and then carefully scraping off some of the dirt that had accumulated over it. Steve sniffed again, and blinked a few times before also dropping to his knees opposite Thor and picking out the weeds.

They both worked, again, in silence, for about a minute or so, until all was clean and well again. Steve knew he was shaking, and he wasn’t sure whether it was from the freezing water dripping down his neck or something else, but when he stood up he made sure to ignore the urge to shudder. He could handle a little rain.

Thor followed suit shortly after, taking Steve’s side once more as they both looked down at the clean grave below them. Steve thought of his dirty knees, and how she would have scolded him if he’d have turned up looking like that when she’d been alive.

It was almost a year. A whole year since she’d died. So many things had happened that he wished he could tell her- things about school, about Tony, about himself. He’d grown almost two inches and his hair was a little longer, and he’d learned how to make Lasagne and play ‘Mary had a little lamb’ on the piano.

He’d changed, since she’d last seen him. And for some reason, that thought really hurt.

“Why are you sad,” he blurted, blinking rapidly and trying not to let the sudden thoughts consume him entirely. He turned to Thor, who didn’t look away from the small grave in front of him. “What happened to make you sad. Do I need to punch someone?”

At that, Thor did actually glance up at him with a small twitch of his lips. “Please don’t punch anyone,” he said firmly, “I don’t want any injuries, on your side or theirs. Plus Tony might kill me.”

Steve just rolled his eyes and then stepped sideways, letting their shoulders brush together lightly once more. Thor didn’t speak up for a little while, and his body remained unnaturally still. A droplet of water slid slowly down the centre of his nose as he remained stoically staring into the same spot on Sarah Rogers’ grave.

“You know what it’s like,” came the eventual voice, way too fragile to sound remotely like Thor, “to watch as you lose someone you love. See them slip away, slowly- and I suppose, for you- know that there is nothing you can do about it.” He didn’t blink as he spoke, but swallowed heavily and then puffed out his chest, lips pursing into a thin line. Eventually, he turned and angled his head over to Steve. There was a defeated smile on his face. “Well, for me, I know that there _is_ something I could do about it. I could save them if I tried. But I just… don’t know how.”

It was obvious who Thor was talking about once Steve heard him say that, and he shut his eyes. “Loki,” he murmured.

Thor just laughed. “Yeah. Loki.” He shook his head and finally looked up, into the sky where the rain was just beginning to let up a little. “My own little brother, gone past a point where I have a clue about what to do with him. I don’t even _recognise_ him anymore. He goes out every night with his friends and comes back home a little more altered, and I can’t stop him. I’ve tried. But I can’t. He doesn’t want my help. Doesn’t think he needs help from anyone.” Thor’s face turned sharp as he shook his head. “Thanks to our wonderful parents, Loki learned self-sufficiency at a very young age. I grew up looking after him, but he grew up being the one that had to be coddled by his big brother. Sometimes I wonder if he always hated me as much as he does now, but just never showed it.”

“Thor,” Steve began softly, but the other boy just shook his head and smiled sadly, looking down at the Earth where his muddy trainers sunk through the grass.

“He’s not come back home for two weeks, now,” he continued, voice raw, “that’s a new record. Haven’t heard from him either. Could be dead or alive. And when- _if_ \- he comes home, I know that he won’t bother telling me where he’s been, or apologising for any of it. He thinks I only care because it’s what my parents asked me to do.” Thor grimaced, wiping a hurried hand across his face and then turning to Steve. “Truth is, if I called them right now and told them Loki was dead, they’d wait until their precious business deal had gone through before coming home. It was never _them_ who gave all the shits; not _them_ who fucking raised him.”

Steve remained quiet, thinking about the fact that Thor pretty much always had an empty house ready for him and his guests. Thinking about how loud and obvious Thor always was; how he made friends with everyone and loved the attention that was given to him by them all. Because in reality, when Thor got home, it was to a vacant world. To the reality that his brother was off the rails and that his parents didn’t even care about it. They sent the money over for Thor to keep the apartment running and food in their stomachs, and that was the largest part they played in his or Loki’s life.

It must be lonely. Really, really lonely.

Thor sighed, and even his breath just seemed heavy. “I love him,” he said quietly, “he is my brother and I love him, and I know with every day that he’s fading further and further away and _I hate him_ for doing that to me. But I hate myself more for being the one who failed him.”

The words struck a chord in Steve, and he nodded softly, glancing back down to his mother’s grave. “We don’t control the fate of other people, Thor,” he said earnestly, “only our own, I guess. No matter how much we might try.”

Thor was quiet. Around them, the rain had finally stopped completely, leaving only the sound of heavy patters of rain dropping off surfaces and sinking through to the grass.

“How bad did it hurt, in the immediate aftermath?” Thor asked eventually, and he didn’t give context, but Steve knew what he meant anyway.

He breathed in shakily. “Like nothing I could ever even explain.”

That seemed answer enough to Thor, because he nodded once, and then smiled at Steve, punching his arm gently. “God, look at the pair of us,” he said with a small huff, “soaking wet and miserable, talking about depressing family matters in a graveyard. This would be a hell of a lot easier if I was high right now.”

Steve raised his eyebrows at Thor and then shook his head, bumping their shoulders together. Now the storm had passed, he felt like he was more grounded to Earth again, and he realized quite how cold he truly felt. He was aware that they probably looked like total messes; stood shoulder-to-shoulder in some tiny graveyard, both of them about two sentences away from straight up crying- and yet Steve could only feel strangely grateful that at least he wasn’t alone in his melancholy. Thor was right here with him, standing steady, and showing Steve a part of himself that quite clearly never came out very often. It meant a lot.

 “I’m glad you came,” he stated honestly, “you’re a really good friend, Thor. And for the record, I don’t think you’re ever going to be a failure. To fail someone- to properly, _truly_ fail someone- you have to stop caring. And I don’t think you could ever stop caring about the people you love. There’s too much heart in you, buddy.”

Thor looked down with a small little smile. Then he straightened up, wiping his face once more and visibly composing himself. Something seemed to change in him; his shoulders spread, his face brightened, and he made a conscious effort to relax himself. He looked more like what Steve usually saw in him.

“Stop it,” he said immediately, before Thor could say anything.

“Stop what?”

“Pretending you’re okay now. Let your whole… the whole ‘Jolly Viking’ persona go for a bit. I don’t mind.”

Thor paused, apparently thrown off by Steve’s words. “But you’re sad.”

Steve, in response, just rolled his eyes and then nudged Thor in the ribs. “If you hadn’t noticed, so are you,” he told the other boy firmly, “you don’t need to burn yourself out to make other people feel better, Thor. I’m your friend. And I’ll still be your friend when you’re not feeling like yourself, too.”

Thor licked his lips, holding his posture for another moment before just shrugging and then slumping back down again. He looked so relieved, and there was gratitude deep in his eyes as he patted Steve on the shoulder.

“I can see why Tony loves you so much,” he said through a smile, before turning his head back to the little path they’d come down, “hey, I’m kinda hungry. We should get food after this.”

Steve nodded. “There’s a burger bar at the end of the street. You can head there now, if you want. I can meet you in a minute- I’d just like a moment alone, if that’s alright.”

Thor’s hand clapped against his shoulder again as he nodded in agreement, and he promised he’d order Steve some food before walking off over in the direction of warmth and burgers. It left Steve alone in the half-darkness, a small smile on his face as he turned back to look over at his mom.

“So that’s Thor,” he declared with a grin, “he’s one of my favourites. You’d love him. I know I say that about all my friends, but you would. Thor is like- like sunshine or something.” He crossed his arms and felt his teeth start to chatter. God, it really was freezing. “I don’t think I’m gonna stay much longer. But it’s December, so I just wanted to stop by, say hey. I miss your stupid cookies.”

As always, everything he said didn’t feel like quite enough, and he scuffed his feet against the soaking grass as he tried not to let the lump grow in his throat. He’d done this so many times, by now. Surely he was past the crying stage.

“Christmas is going to be really weird,” he blurted, “without you. I think I’m going to be pretty sad. But, I mean, Tony will be too. And Thor, probably. I think we’re all a little fucked up, to be honest.”

Despite the depressing nature of his words, Steve found himself smiling somewhat fondly. “At least we can be fucked up together, I suppose,” he said with a shrug and a small laugh, “that’s what friends are for, right?”

He wasn’t entirely sure what his mom would have said to that. Probably just yelled at him for cursing, now he thought about it. He shook his head in memory and then stepped back, blinking rapidly. He needed to get somewhere warm before his asthma flared up or he caught a cold, and Thor was waiting for him. “Right,” he cleared his throat and then blew out a breath of crystalized air from his mouth, nodding finally, “right, I guess I’ll be going then.”

He crouched onto his haunches and then pressed his fingers to his lips, before moving them down and letting them rest over his mom’s name. “Love you,” he murmured, “I’ll come back soon.”

When he arrived in the small little café a few minutes later, he knew that it was probably pretty obvious he’d been crying. His pale complexion never really helped hide it, and his eyes had a tendency of puffing up at the first sign of tears. But Thor didn’t mention it- just smiled over to him and then pushed a plate over the table. The burger was greasy and not particularly great, but it helped warm him up a little, and afterward Thor and Steve both went into the bathroom and tried to dry their hair off with the hand dryers, which was pretty hilarious. There was something sort of endearing about watching the six-foot giant try and bend down at an angle that would make his hair dry smoothly.

It didn’t really work. They both walked out of their five minutes later looking as if they’d been electrocuted, but still. He felt a little warmer for it- although that might not have been entirely to do with the dry hair.

“Thanks, Thor,” he said afterward, when they were on the bus home again, “you… it was good of you. To do this for me.”

Thor just made a face and then waved his hand, “it was my pleasure, Steve,” he said earnestly, “and you- well, you listened to me moan more than I listened to you. Sorry about that.”

Steve just sighed fondly, leaning his head back against the uncomfortable rest of his bus-seat. “That’s not how friendship works you know, Thor. It’s a two way street.”

Thor didn’t say anything to that; just smiled and then looked out of the window again for a little while longer. Darkness had fallen fully by that point, and New York was lit up by the Christmas lights and buzzing shops that seemed to never shut. Steve watched them too, letting it all pass him by in a blur until Thor spoke again a few minutes later.

“You’re a really good friend, Steve,” he declared, “I don’t think you fully realize the extent to which you’ve changed mine and Tony’s life. Before you- well- all we had was each other, really. Tony had Rhodey and Pepper too, but they were away pretty often, and everyone else around us just…sucked.” He laughed and shrugged his shoulders. “We never really had a group of people that we could count on, before you and your friends came along . So. Thanks for that, I guess.”

Steve wasn’t sure what to do with that information. It was weird, to think of himself having that much of an impact on people, really. In his own eyes, he just wasn’t… important enough for that. He wasn’t a big character, he wasn’t hilarious or rich or even particularly interesting- all he was was stubborn and loyal and opinionated to the point where it tended to get him into more arguments than most people were comfortable with.

And yet Thor seemed to like that, for some reason. So did Tony. And, well, so did all his other friends, he guessed.

“Thanks,” he choked out in the end, looking down at his damp trainers and fiddling with his hands. He could sense Thor smiling at him, but he didn’t say anything else after that and left the silence to grow around them comfortably. Thor eventually had to get off a few stops before Steve, and he patted Steve on the back firmly as he stood and began to leave.

“Call Tony,” he said as he began to walk over to the doors, “he’s worried about you.”

“When is he not?” Steve asked with a fond roll of his eyes, and Thor just nodded and laughed as he jumped off the bus and waved to Steve when it began to move off again.

He let his mind wander freely as his bus got closer and closer to home, thinking over all the events of the day. His clothes were still wet and he was still horribly cold, but something seemed to have settle inside him a little all the same. Maybe seeing his mom had been a good idea after all.

He checked his watch. Sam would be out at the gym by this point, and Mr and Mrs Wilson were working late tonight too, which meant that no one would be in the house when he got back. He sighed to himself- spending time alone right now didn’t seem like a particularly appealing idea, but he didn’t really feel like conversation either. Sometimes it was just too tiring to try and think of things to say.

His thumb brushed over Tony’s contact, debating whether or not to bother. He’d be back from his lecture thingy by that point, and if Steve asked, he was sure Tony would come. But he still felt like he was being a nuisance to the other boy all the same. Tony was always so busy and fast-moving, he had so many things to do. Steve couldn’t help but feel as if he was holding him back sometimes.

 _Don’t be an idiot,_ he told himself firmly, _it’s not like that._ _Anyway, Tony told you himself: he’s got a free night after the lecture. You’re not being bothersome. You’re just asking for company._

God, he really needed to learn how to get better at letting people in.

With a short sigh, he bit the bullet and then dialled Tony’s number. It couldn’t hurt to ask, and if he was busy, then Sam would get home in an hour or two anyway. Steve could handle himself just fine, thank you very much.

“Hey, Steve,” Tony answered the phone after two rings, and Steve found himself smiling tiredly at the sound of Tony’s voice alone.

“Hey,” he said, leaning his head against the window of the bus and closing his eyes, “how was your lecture?”

“It was really interesting, actually. The ideas presented were probably a little too abstract and futuristic to actually take on any scientific value, but the concept behind it was fascinating,” Tony breathed out excitedly, and Steve let the other boy gush for a few minutes, the words running over him soothingly. It didn’t make any sense to him at all, and that was absolutely fine, because Tony kept talking anyway, needing no input from Steve at all as his own enthusiasm and interest fuelled the conversation. Steve loved when Tony talked like that.

“Anyway,” Tony said eventually, laughing, “sorry, I’ve been talking for a million years. You really should just tape my mouth shut one day, I swear to God.”

“Absolutely not,” Steve told him, “I’d have no-one to teach me about Quantum physics then.”

Tony laughed fondly. “How are you feeling?” He asked, voice going gentler.

Steve paused, biting his lip. He could just brush it off, he figured. Tony would probably know he was lying, but he’d understand all the same. And Steve really didn’t want to bother Tony with the same old stupid stuff- ‘my mom’s dead and I’m sad about it again, blah blah blah’- he must surely be getting bored of that by now.

“Are you free?” He asked instead as a compromise, “it’s just- no one’s in my house right now. And. I mean, if you wanted, you could-“

“-well about that,” Tony said somewhat sheepishly, and Steve felt his heart start to drop in disappointment, “actually, I’m just driving back from a quick stop off in Brooklyn to get some parts for one of my engines, and so I thought I’d take a detour and- well, I was just about to ask if you wanted me to come over for a little bit, actually. Seeing as I’m like, three minutes away right now.”

Oh. That was… perfect, actually. “Yeah,” Steve said with another smile, “yeah, I’d like that. You might have to wait in your car for a bit though- I’m five minutes out myself, so you’ll probably get there before me anyway.”

“Oh?” Tony asked, “where have you been? I thought you went straight home.”

Steve paused. “Uh,” he began, “I, uh… went to see mom. For a bit.”

There was a short silence on the other end, and Steve was about to move the conversation on to some more comfortable territory before Tony spoke back up again. “Right,” he said, “okay. Well, if it helps, I brought back some complimentary cookies that I pilfered from the lecture-hall snack bar. They might be a bit fluffy, ‘cuz I had to put them in my pocket, but I know you like chocolate chip so I thought you’d appreciate it.”

Steve paused, choking on a laugh at the thought of Tony trying to surreptitiously slide a dozen cookies into his expensive leather jacket without being detected by the staff. “God, I love you, you big idiot,” he responded simply, which was a little off-topic, but what could he say, the feeling just struck him and he wanted Tony to know it, “I’ll be home soon.”

He felt like Tony was smiling down the line. “Love you too,” he said, before hanging up a few seconds later once they’d said their goodbyes.

He flicked through his phone absently for the next few minutes, just waiting for the bus to arrive at his stop and drop him off at the end of his street. Some point a few minutes in, he heard his phone ringing again and checked the number, frowning at the unknown caller ID. He picked it up anyway, getting ready to reject whatever fridge or insurance they were trying to sell him. “Hello?”

“Are you with Tony?” Someone- a girl, it seemed like- asked him. Her voice sounded annoyed and somewhat familiar, and Steve frowned in confusion.

“Excuse me?” He asked, “who are you?”

“Uh, I’m _Sunset_ ,” she said like he was stupid, “don’t play dumb, I know that you know who I-“

There were muffled sounds on the other end of the line, and then whispering voices. Steve just made a face and then rolled his eyes, until another voice came up on the line a few moments later. Steve recognised this one.

“Steve, just tell me if Tony is with you so we can decide whether we need to order our own drinks or not,” Tiberius said with an irritated sigh, and all at once Steve’s hackles went up and he scowled mutinously.

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s clearly all you care about him for, isn’t it,” he said, “but yeah, you’re gonna have to act like big boys and girls and pay for your own drinks tonight, because he’s not meeting you. Now fuck off.”

With that, he ended the call before any of the people on the other line could respond. He didn’t know how they’d managed to get his number, and he didn’t much care either. A second later he’d blocked it anyway, so it stopped being his problem.

He reached his stop barely a minute later and thanked the driver quickly before stepping off and shivering from the sudden gust of cold. His clothes were still a little damp, and the rain had started up all over again by that point. Luckily, his warm home loomed right up in front of him, and the sight of Tony’s flashy car parked up outside made him smile in relief.

Tony must have spotted him as he walked up the street, because a few seconds later the car door opened and he stepped out, a big smile on his face. In his hands were about six cookies altogether, and Tony was holding them up with pride.

“All fluff-free,” he declared, “I just spent about ten minutes pulling it all off, so you better eat them now.”

Steve laughed. “You’re so fucking weird.”

When he reached Tony, he was pulled into a hug that was a little tighter and lasted a little longer than usual. Tony kissed him on the forehead quickly and then leaned back. “Hello to you too,” he said through a smile, before he frowned, “are you shaking? How long have you been out?”

Steve shrugged, leading them both inside and grabbing his keys. “Few hours, maybe,” he said, “it’s fine.”

Tony sighed in dismay. “You’re gonna catch a cold, Steve, dammit-“

“yes, thank you mother, I’m aware I probably should have worn some more layers, but in my defence, I wasn’t expecting it to rain so hard.”

Tony didn’t say anything more as Steve let him into the house and flicked on the lights. He quickly shucked off his wet jumper and jacket and then tried not to shiver too obviously from the cold of the empty house. Tony wasn’t fooled though, and with another sigh he pulled off his own hoodie and, despite Steve’s protests, forced it around his shoulders. “You’re an idiot and you are going to end up taking my entire wardrobe soon,” he informed Steve as he quickly kissed the top of his head again, “hey, shall I make us some hot chocolate?”

“When you say ‘you’ will make it, do you actually mean ‘google’ will make it and you will still end up getting it wrong anyway?” Steve responded, following him through into the kitchen with a tired smile on his face. Tony’s hoodie was warm from his body heat and smelled like Tony did, and it felt so nice that Steve couldn’t even complain about being coddled.

Tony flipped him off and chose to ignore him as he rounded the cupboards and then started opening them all, searching for the correct equipment. It took him a good ten minutes longer than it would for most to create a very simple drink, but he got there in the end, and he handed it to Steve with such a look of pride on his face that Steve didn’t even have the heart in him to tell him that it tasted awful. “Thanks,” he said fondly, wrapping his fingers around the mug and feeling the warmth prickle across his palms.

Tony smiled at him and then took his spare hand into his own, pulling them both back into the living room smoothly. They didn’t share many words as Tony settled them both into the couch and pulled the blankets up over them, and for that Steve was grateful. Tony must have been able to tell that he wasn’t feeling quite up to normal conversation. He was really good at spotting things like that. Instead, he pulled his arms around Steve’s slim waist and then tucked himself close, grabbing the remote and then switching the TV on to some of episodes of _The Simpsons_.

They didn’t say much as the show ran through. Steve just rested his head against Tony’s shoulder and allowed the simplicity of contact to ground him back to earth. Tony, for once, seemed content to do nothing at all- occasionally flicking through his phone every now and again, but using most of the time to gently run his hands through Steve’s hair or trace up and down his arms.

It was nice. Way better than being alone.

Tony didn’t ask to be filled in on what he’d done at his mom’s grave. He could probably tell from Steve’s dirty jeans and slightly puffy eyes anyway. And maybe when Steve was feeling a little less weary, he’d tell Tony a bit more. For now though, he was content to just allow the silent company of Tony to pull his heart up from the floor by an inch or two. Maybe not enough to make him completely better, but definitely enough for Steve to be glad that Tony was here with him.

Sometimes it was the little things that meant the most.

Eventually Sam got back, interrupting their fifth episode of the Simpsons with his groaning and grumbling about how sore he felt after gym. Tony laughed at him good-naturedly and then assured Sam that one day if he kept working hard, he might be able to beat Tony in an arm wrestling match. Of course, this led to a five minute argument and ended with Sam challenging Tony to a wrestle, extending his hand daringly and waggling it in Tony’s face. “If you think you’re so hard,” he goaded, “come on then, Stark. Let’s see what you’re made of.”

“I’m quite clearly busy right now,” Tony told him, waving at Steve, “but we can settle it by seeing which one of us can go back to my place and lift the steel girder that I’m trying to fit into my wall right now. Because I can guarantee that you will not be able to.”

“No one is lifting any steel girders tonight,” Steve told them, lifting his head away from Tony’s shoulder for a moment.

Tony just shrugged, “Bosses word is final,” he told Sam apologetically, and Steve huffed in amusement as their friend just muttered mutinously and then stood back up to go and grab some after-gym cereal, leaving Tony and Steve to themselves once more.

“Thank you for coming, by the way,” Steve told him quietly, “I know you probably could’ve been doing a ton of more interesting things.”

Tony, whose eyes had been halfway-shut and ready to fall into a doze, blinked down at him in surprise and then just smiled softly, angling his head and leaning in. Steve automatically met him in the middle and they kissed, soft and slow and easy.

“I’m just fine right here, Steve,” Tony said, his eyelashes fluttering against Steve’s cheek and his hand reaching out for the cup of what he must have assumed was coffee on the table in front of them. When he took a sip, however, he quickly choked and held back on a gag. Steve realised in amusement that he must have accidentally picked up Steve’s ‘hot chocolate’. “Son of a fucking bitch, what _is_ that?” He hissed when he’d managed to swallow it down, a look of abject disgust on his face.

Steve just burst out laughing. “That’s your hot chocolate, babe.”

Tony gagged again, turning to Steve in horror. “I _gave_ you that?” He asked, horrified, “oh Jesus, see, this is why I’d be the worst housewife ever. I am so sorry. That is _poison_. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Steve blushed sheepishly. “You, uh. You seemed very pleased with it. I didn’t want to step on your moment.”

For a second, Tony did nothing except look at him incredulously. Then he burst out laughing, pulling Steve into his chest and hugging him in delight.

“Steve Rogers,” Tony declared, kissing his forehead and looking at him with outright adoration, plain to see in his eyes, “please never ever change.”

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

Steve hadn’t known it then, but when he woke up the next day on a Friday morning and got ready to go to school all over again, he was never going to be able to forget what happened in the next 24 hours.

It was freezing, as usual, and so Steve was decked out in his usual five layers as he made his way up to school. He got weird looks from everyone else as they shivered in their fashionable tiny jackets, but Steve knew that his immune system would thank him for his own wardrobe choices and so continued as he was. Steve had long since learned to stop caring about what anyone else thought of him, be it his fashion choices or his general looks.

Math was first, and so Steve used that opportunity to have a nap- not because he didn’t care, but because he’d already asked Bruce about the subject they were studying the day before, and he’d explained it to him better than the teacher was ever going to be able to. Bruce was remarkably patient with him- with everyone, for that matter. Even though Tony said he had a very extreme temper if you managed to bring it out in him, Steve could hardly believe that at all. The boy seemed mellow to his very core. This was further proved during break, when he came to sit on their table for a few minutes and then ended getting his own salad thrown in his face by Clint (‘accidentally’, apparently). And what was most unusual is that, unlike the rest of the table would most certainly have done, Bruce didn’t even bother to hit him. Just sighed and then demanded Clint buy him a new meal, which, begrudgingly, the boy did. He didn’t even complain when Clint ended up buying him a burger cooked in peanut oil, which was what he was allergic to.

Steve swore to god, Bruce Banner had the patience of a saint.

Anyway. Like he’d said, seeing as Bruce had gone through the concepts with him earlier, Steve had no need to even attempt to keep his concentration up during the lesson, and happily doodled the faces of his friends in his sketchbook. He felt like his drawings had been improving recently, which was really nice. He missed being able to draw freely and not worry about the quality of it. He wanted to go buy a canvas at some point, and maybe try a proper painting, just to test things out and see whether he still had the knack. He’d done a lot of that, before his mom had died. Maybe he could pick it back up again.

He was grateful for lunch break when it finally came around, because he was absolutely starving, and quickly devoured the panini he’d bought. Sam looked at him judgementally. “And that’s what you get for skipping breakfast, kid.”

“Shut up,” Steve muttered, wincing as one of the sour tomatoes exploded under his teeth. God, cafeteria food was disgusting. “Not my fault you fucking stole my shoes and made me lose track of time while I looked for them.”

“For the last time, Rogers, I did _not_ steal your god-damn shoes!” Sam yelled, throwing his hands in the air, “you probably just left them in some dirty-ass corner in your room like you always do!”

“They were right where I left them last night, and yet when I come down this morning, when only _one_ person has been down before me, they are suddenly gone? Don’t bullshit with me Wilson, I know you’ve always wanted them-“

“-well this sounds heated,” Tony said in amusement as he slipped down into the seat next to Steve and then smiled in greeting. Steve just harrumphed, shooting Sam a very dirty glare from over the table.

“Hey Tony,” Steve said, turning to the other boy with a smile, “I think you should have that arm-wrestle with Sam now. I’m feeling in the mood to watch him get shown up.”

Tony chuckled and then looked over to Sam with a shrug. “Wanna go, Wilson?” He asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows, and then Steve laughed at the sight of Sam’s face dropping a little as he held his hands up in the air.

“Nah, man, you know what-“ Sam began with a nod, “-I think I, y’know- think I I’ve actually sprained my arm from yesterday at the gym. It wouldn’t really be fair. Maybe some time later.”

Steve grinned. “Yeah, thought so,” he said good-humouredly, leaning over the table to pat Sam on the shoulder, “but I still want my fucking shoes back, or I’ll get Tony to go beat your ass.”

“I’m not actually your personal servant, sweetheart,” Tony said absently as he picked at the pasta on his tray.

Steve turned to him, patting his head fondly. “Yeah you are,” he responded without faltering, which seemed good enough for Tony, because after a second he just shrugged and then nodded.

“Yeah, I mean I can’t really argue with that logic.” Tony waved a finger at Sam. “Like he said, I’ll beat you up.”

“See, the best thing is that I have no idea whether he’s joking or he really is just that whipped,” Clint perked up at Steve’s other side, looking between them both, “also, if I give you ten bucks would you beat up people for me too?”

Steve rolled his eyes and scoffed down some more of his food as Tony and Clint continued to chat over his shoulders. Eventually the two boys seemed to come to some sort of agreement about one punch from Tony being equal to three donuts bought for him or something, and Steve tried to ignore them as they shook hands over his head, holding out the hope that Tony was simply joking and wouldn’t _actually_ go around hitting people for the sake of food.

He talked amicably amongst his friends for twenty minutes or so, before excusing himself to head back to art class where he’d left his folder. His project still wasn’t done yet, and the assignment had to be handed in by the end of the week, so he was going to be having to cut a few lunches short just to find the time to complete the damned thing.

Quickly kissing Tony goodbye, he slipped out of his seat and then made his way through the cafeteria and down the corridors full of milling students, waving to Sharon as she passed him by and then stopping off at his locker in order to grab some more pencils that he’d left there earlier last week. His mind wandered easily; thinking about Christmas, about the wonky set of bangs Natasha had cut for herself last night, and about what he thought he was gonna be having for dinner later that evening when he got back home.

And then, when the sound of annoyingly familiar voices drifted through the corridor, he thought about Tiberius Stone and his stupid group of dickhead friends.

“Oh look, it’s Steve!” One of them called out, and he bit back on a sigh and kept his head looking into his locker, hoping they’d just walk off with nothing more than a few nasty comments thrown his way.

They didn’t.

“Steve!” Ty said, humour in his voice, “just the sadsack I was looking for, actually.”

Steve clenched his jaw, shutting the locker with a slam and then spinning on his heel. “How’s things, Ty?” He asked sweetly, “did you manage to buy your own drinks last night? Or did you need to ring up Tony and ask how grown-ups did it by themselves without getting someone else to pay?”

The group was fairly small- only Ty, Zeke and two others that Steve didn’t know the name of and didn’t care for either. But the rest of the kids who were loitering in the halls still smelt the potential for an altercation anyway, because suddenly everything seemed to get a bit quiet, and eyes began to turn in their direction. Steve, for the record, didn’t look away from Ty.

The boy in question was staring back, not even attempting to seem nonchalant by that point. His face was hard. “You know what, Steve?” He began, stepping forward. The hallway went quieter still, and Steve saw people stop walking to look at them both.

“Oh by all means, inform me,” Steve said, equally as cold. He wasn’t going to back down to a bully like Ty. Not now, not ever.

There was a short pause, and then Ty laughed. He took another step forward. “I think I’m starting to get really sick of you. Walking around here like you fucking own the place, taking Tony away from us and trying to keep him all to yourself. Acting like you care about him for anything other than the same reasons anyone else does.”

“I act like I care because, amazingly, I do,” Steve said with a shrug, “but that must be hard for you to understand. All you ever do for people is give them an extremely mediocre fuck and then bounce, acting like you’ve earned some sort of prize for World’s Greatest Sex God. How _very_ cool of you.”

The kids watching all gasped, enjoying the show as Steve dug into Ty, and the boy in front of him just smiled tightly and tried to stop his blush of mortification showing through. Steve couldn’t help but grin- watching Ty squirm was pretty satisfying, and he figured that Tiberius rarely ever got insulted right to his face like that, especially not in front of crowds.

“Oh, Steve,” Ty walked even closer, bringing them nearly to touching distance as he loomed over, a face like thunder, “you really think that I’m just going to let you win? You don’t get to take what’s mine away from me-“

“Tony doesn’t _‘belong’_ to you, shithead,” Steve said, and then grunted when Ty snapped out his hands and shoved him into the lockers, hard. His head hit the metal and he bit back on the urge to wince, continuing to keep eye contact with Ty. The crowd tightened, gasping in excitement at the fight that was seemingly about to break out on the corridors between Tony Stark’s current boyfriend and Tony Stark’s ex.

“I’d watch how you talk to me, Rogers,” Ty hissed at him, “I know you like to think you’re invincible because Tony’s got this little obsession with you right now, but when it ends- and believe me, it’ll end- then you’re gonna have to deal with me.” He stepped forward again, seeming as if he was going to go for Steve’s collar, but Steve just laughed and then batted his hands away, putting all his strength into pushing Ty back and sending him stumbling across the corridor.

Steve glared at him. “I’ve been getting into fights with fuckers like you long before I met Tony,” he said, raising his fists as Ty snarled, “you’re nothing special, Stone- no matter what you might think, all you are is another entitled asshole. And Tony is fucking _bored_ of you.”

Ty shook his head and then pushed himself off the wall, marching over to Steve with his whole body tensed up and his arm rising into an arc. Steve stepped forward too- if Ty wanted to fight, then they could fight, Steve wasn’t fucking bothered. He could give as good as he got, thank you very much, and that was what he fully intended to do as he raised his own arm and then reeled it back, preparing to swing.

Ty was removed pretty swiftly from his vicinity before any punches managed to get landed however, and Steve watched in surprise as a blur of leather jacket and dark hair rushed in front of Steve, grabbing Ty by the neck of his sweater and then yanking him sideways, shoving him into the nearby wall. Sam and Clint were at his side a moment later and he turned in surprise, looking at all his friends as they barged through the crowd and found him.

“I fucking _told you_ to stay the fuck away from him,” Tony snarled, slamming Ty against the locker, “what part of that did you not get?”

Steve pushed through the crowds that had moved on, cutting him off in order to horde around the two other boys that now seemed to be about to scrap. He felt either Sam or Clint’s hand try to pull him back but he shoved them off, ducking under arms and then pushing people off before he joined the circle again, hand reaching out to grab Tony’s shoulder.

Ty shoved him with a curled lip, and Tony’s grip slipped off him as he took a few steps back. “You know what, Tony, maybe I don’t fucking care what you ask me to do anymore, you know? You sure as hell don’t seem to give a shit about me. About _us_. About anyone except your precious little pet project-“ Ty pointed a vicious finger at Steve, who rolled his eyes and then stepped forward, going in to shove him again. But Tony got there first, smacking his hand out of the air and then propelling him back violently so his back hit the lockers.

“You need to fuck off, Ty,” he spat, “I’m sorry I didn’t come out with you last night, okay, but I actually _do_ have a life outside of you guys and I didn’t really feel like getting shitfaced on a Thursday evening. Call me crazy.”

“No, I’m just calling you delusional,” Ty hissed, pushing forward once more, “you don’t know what you’re fucking doing. When are you going to give this shit up? We’ve all been patient, we’ve all let you work through this- this stupid thing you have going on with Rogers and all his _pathetic_ buddies. Trying to pretend they’re your friends. But you need to snap out of it, and go back to where you really belong. Make a fucking choice, Tony, because I’m not going to just sit and wait for you to get bored. This is last fucking straw. I won’t let him insult me, and I sure as hell won’t stand for you taking his side over mine.” He took a breath and then grinned maliciously, arms folding into his chest. “So- you wanna come back to us and make sure I keep my mouth shut to Howard, or would you rather go off and make daisy chains with Steve?”

Tony froze, eyes widening. Steve felt like every muscle in his body coiled up at once and his mouth dropped in horror.

“I know that you keep it quiet,” Ty continued, something glinting in his eye, “I know you avoid photos and take extra measure to stop yourself getting caught out. To anyone who doesn’t know you, Steve Rogers barely even exists in your life.” He glanced over to Steve and cocked his head. “How does that feel, by the way? Knowing your own boyfriend is too ashamed to be seen with you? He never did that when we were fucking.”

 _“I’m not fucking ashamed,”_ Tony growled, lurching forward- but Steve caught him by the arm and held him back, suddenly panicked by the idea of Ty following through with his threat.

“Tony, leave it,” he said urgently, pulling him back- but Ty wasn’t done, and he followed them like a hunter with eyes on its target.

“This is your choice, Tony,” he murmured with a shrug, “you wanna risk it with your old man, fine by me. I don’t care either way. But it doesn’t have to be like that. Just come back. Where you _belong.”_

Tony glared at him, jaw clenched so tight that Steve thought his teeth would shatter. Steve just stared, breath not coming at all as he gently pushed Tony in Ty’s direction. He had to do what Ty said, for his own sake.

But Tony felt it, and he glanced back at Steve, looking into his eyes for a second. There was panic there; a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming freight train, no escape in sight. Steve just nodded in understanding, even though his heart was sinking deep into the pits of his stomach.

Tony had to go. Loathe though Steve was to admit it, Ty had the upper hand. He had the leverage.

Tony turned back around and looked at Ty. “Okay,” he said quietly, “okay, I guess I- I know what I want.”

Ty smiled.

Or at least, he did for about two seconds. Until Tony swung back his fist and punched him in the face so hard that his whole body snapped back from the impact, sending him hurtling to the floor as all his strength deserted him at once.

Steve gasped in shock and surprise, and the crowd around them exploded. He heard a distinct “oh _shit,”_ come from Sam somewhere behind him, but all he was focused on was Tony’s face carved in stone, his fists clamped tight with rage, and Ty’s body on the floor, curled in on itself as he groaned over a freshly broken nose.

“That a clear enough answer for you?” Tony snarled, stepping forward with wild eyes, “you really think I’d fucking let you use me like that? I’m fucking _sick_ of being scared, Ty. I’m sick of _you_. I’m fucking sick of all of it, _fuck you,_ fuck you-“

Steve grabbed him by the waist before he could kick at Ty’s stomach and pulled him back forcibly. Steve didn’t weigh much, but he knew how to work his angles and made sure to throw Tony over his hipbone, pushing him backward and sending him away. Clint and Sam and Nat, who had suddenly joined the front of the crowd, all grabbed him before he could try and go back for round two, and they shoved him away and out of sight of Ty. Steve glanced down at the boy on the floor, now just beginning to sit up with rapid blinks, blood spewing from his nose and pooling in his hands. He locked eyes with Steve, just for a second, and the hatred that was in his eyes in that moment almost made Steve want to look away. Almost.

“He’s going to regret that,” Ty told him, and it was spoken like a promise.

Steve turned away and followed his friends, heart up in his throat as he pushed through the crowds in order to catch up with them. By that point, the teachers had finally seemed to catch up with what was happening, and he could see a few feet away as Principal Fury himself marched down the corridors and grabbed Tony by the arm, pulling him out of the area as he yelled at the other teachers to go check on Tiberius. Tony swore at him viciously and shoved his hand away, but followed him a second later all the same. He turned his head, looking through the crowds for a second in searching, and Steve tried to push through and make himself seen, but before he got the chance Tony had disappeared around the corner, heading into what was undoubtedly the Principal’s office.

He stopped in the middle of the corridor, trying to remember how to breathe as Clint, Sam and Nat all came back to him. “What the fuck is going on?” Natasha said, taking his arm and looking at him seriously, “we came as soon as Louise told us you were getting into a fight with Ty. Steve, why is Tony so mad?”

“Oh Jesus,” Steve said, blinking rapidly as teacher pushed past him to disperse the crowds and get Ty to the nurse, “God, no, I gotta-“ he broke off and pushed past them, following the footsteps that Tony had been led off in and ignoring his friends’ protests as he left them guessing. He needed to find Tony.

He didn’t bother knocking as he burst through into Principal Fury’s office, and as soon as he saw his boyfriend sat sullenly in the chair he marched straight over to him. “Tony, you have to go back and tell him you didn’t mean it,” he said desperately, “you have to or he’s going to- you can’t let him do that, you just can’t.”

“Uhm, _excuse me-“_ Fury began in, well, fury- but both the boys just ignored him, turning to face one another.

“Steve,” Tony said with a shake of his head, “he won’t. It’s an empty threat. He’s full of shit and he cares about Howard’s opinion of him too much to risk ruining it. If he exposed me, he’d expose himself. He wouldn’t do that. I’m fine.”

“That’s not what Ty was saying!” Steve threw his hand back in the direction of the corridor, “Tony, please- this is bigger than just us-“

“I’m not going to let everyone else decide how I live my fucking life, Steve,” Tony told him, voice strangely calm, “not any more. I’m done.”

Steve put his head in his hands, but before he could say anything else, a booming voice broke out in the room: “That is ENOUGH!” Principal Fury yelled, slicing a hand through the air, “now I want you to _get out of my office right now,_ Rogers, or you’re going to be in detention for the next _month_!”

“With all due respect, sir, shut the fuck up,” Steve snapped at him angrily, forgetting where he was and who he was talking to for a second. Beside him, Tony just sighed, and when Steve looked at his headteacher, the man’s single eye looked ready to pop out of his head.

“Now you’ve really fucked it,” Tony told him quietly, looking up at the ceiling as Fury began to turn a shade of deep puce.

Steve just shut his eyes in despair, trying not to flinch as Fury started to yell. Tony was right.

He really had gone and fucked it.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

Mrs. Wilson was waiting for him when he finally got let out of detention an hour after school finished.

He bit his lip and felt his stomach sink even further. Oh God. He could stand to make his teachers upset, he could take the torment he might get from other kids- but one thing he never, ever wanted to see was Mrs. Wilson being disappointed in him.

But when he got in the car, he knew that was exactly what she was.

“Fighting in the corridor?” She asked him, “ _swearing at a teacher?_ Steve- what the hell happened?”

How was he even supposed to begin? “I’m sorry,” he murmured, looking down, “it was a school bully. He was being fucking awful, to me and to other people. People I care about. I got angry.”

“So you shoved him.”

“He shoved me first!”

Mrs Wilson sighed and tightened her hands around the steering wheel of the car. “Steve, that’s not the point,” she explained, “the point is that your social worker is monitoring your progress, your school-work, _everything_. If they don’t think that you’re doing well here, they could relocate you. And you’ve been in five fights already.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “They’re not going to relocate me,” he said vehemently, “that’s not happening.”

“It’s not our decision.”

“It sure as hell is!”

 _“Steve!”_ She chastised, turning to him sharply. He shut his mouth immediately, shame burning in his gut. He was yelling at Mrs. Wilson- God, what was _wrong_ with him today?

“I’m sorry,” he said again, “I’m sorry for… all of this. I just…” he clenched his hands on his lap and looked out of the window. “There are some really awful people at my school. I got angry.”

Mrs. Wilson sighed again, remaining quiet as her fingers tapped over the wheel. He kept his eyes down at his shoes, feeling the muscles in his shoulders as they bunched together.

“I understand, you know,” she told him eventually, “and I believe you if you say that you were provoked, because I know that you wouldn’t just do this for nothing. I’m not trying to be difficult here-“

“I know you’re not, Mrs Wilson,” Steve hurried to assure her, “this is my fault. I know that I’m on my last few warnings now, I shouldn’t have spoken to Principal Fury like that. It was wrong.”

She nodded once, grimacing wearily. “You’re a good kid, Steve,” she told him, “but you _gotta_ learn when to keep your head down and just get on with it. I know that people can be cruel, and sometimes you don’t wanna listen to what the teachers are saying, but you’re not thinking about the repercussions here. If you get into big trouble at school, then it’s gonna flag up with your social worker. I don’t want to have to have you go through all that again; I know you hate seeing them.”

Steve nodded sullenly, looking out of the window. It was true and he knew it- the social services that had taken on his case after his mom’s passing had been reluctant to let him stay with the Wilsons at all, wanting instead to put him with what they deemed ‘a more suitable family’ somewhere over in fucking _Maine_ \- and what they’d meant by that was a family with more money and in a better area. But Steve had been adamant about staying with his friends, and in the end they’d begrudgingly agreed. He knew though, that it probably wouldn’t take much to get his case reconsidered. Especially if his behaviour started falling.

He sighed and looked down, checking his phone again. Tony still hadn’t replied, seeing as he was probably still in detention. Fury had kicked him out of the office before Steve could hear much, but it sounded like Tony might be spending the next few weeks kept back an hour after school because of the fight. Steve just hoped that they wouldn’t try and make Tony apologize- not that Tony _would_ , of course, but just because he’d probably get into even more trouble when he laughed at their suggestion.

Mrs Wilson looked over to him, glancing down at her phone and seeing Tony’s contact. Her lips pursed, just a little. “So I take it that Tony boy was involved too?” She asked.

He paused, looking at her and shutting off his phone. Her face looked unimpressed, and it made something sink in his stomach. “He jumped in before Ty could swing at me,” Steve said, hoping that would sway a little favour Tony’s way.

She nodded once and then didn’t speak again for the remainder of the journey. Steve was quiet too; a billion different thoughts spinning through his head. He wanted to talk to Tony. He knew that the other boy seemed certain Ty wouldn’t actually stick to his promise and follow through, but Steve didn’t only want to address that. He wanted to address the fact that Tony had apparently just thrown away his whole old friendship group, his old lifestyle, and he’d done it for Steve.

Ty had asked him to choose, and Tony had chosen him.

Steve really didn’t know what to do with that information. He just couldn’t believe that he was even worth that much. At all. And yeah, Steve thought Ty was a shitty person, and that all of the rest of Tony’s friends were shitty people too- but he’d still known them for a long, long time. From what Thor told Steve, they’d pretty much all grown up together, running in the same social circles since the day they were all born. So for Tony to throw that all away for some skinny little orphaned kid that he’d met six months ago…

Jesus. Steve didn’t even know what to think.

They arrived back home fifteen minutes later, and Steve was put on chores as soon as he stepped foot in the house. He completed them all meekly, trying to figure out how best he was going to make it up to Mr and Mrs Wilson. Sam had always been a good kid at school- Steve figured they probably weren’t used to rulebreakers, and he felt terrible for having to let them down like that. At least with his own mom, she’s been sort of used to it at that point.

His phone rang, finally, an hour later. Steve pulled it up to his ear as soon as he saw the contact name, breathing in a sigh of relief. “Tony,” he greeted, “you okay? How was detention?”

“Oh, as riveting as it always is,” Tony told him, and he sounded tired, “they know at this point that trying to give me work is useless, so I just sat and got yelled at by Principal Fury for an hour. Fun stuff.”

Steve smiled, sitting down gently on the bed. Now Tony was actually here to speak to, Steve wasn’t all that sure of what to say. “Are you back home now?” He asked eventually as his eyes flicked over to the clock, “or are you staying with Thor? Please stay with Thor, Tony, just for a few nights-“

“I can’t,” Tony told him quickly, “I’m working. Anyway, it’s fine Steve. I know what I’m doing. I’ll probably be out by the time Howard gets back from work anyway.”

Steve bit his lip. Tony sounded too easy going, too nonchalant. Steve felt like he wasn’t being told something. “Please?” He asked again, “please, just tonight? To ease my own mind more than anything. I don’t… this was all my fault anyway, and I couldn’t stand the idea that-“

“Steve, come on, don’t be stupid, how is any of this your fault?” Tony asked, somewhat snappily, “you didn’t _make_ me punch Ty in the face, did you? Jesus.” He sighed, taking in a deep breath through the phone.

“Sorry,” Steve muttered, “I’m just worried.”

Tony said nothing for a second, and then he took in another breath. “I’m sorry too,” he said, turning his voice gentler, “I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just… look, I’m really sorry, but I’ve gotta go. I’m kind of working on a tight schedule here. When I’m finished, I promise I’ll go over to Thor’s. That sound okay?”

It didn’t, not really, not to the overprotective mess of anxiety that was making its home in his brain, but he didn’t really have much choice. So he agreed quietly and then ran a hand through his hair, leaning forward and bracing his elbows against his knees. He wanted to go over there and check up on Tony himself- something felt wrong, and Steve couldn’t put a finger on it, but he knew that it was there. It was probably just his anxiety, like he’d said before, and he knew that Tony was more than capable of looking after himself- he just worried anyway. Steve was very good at that.

“Hey Tony,” he said as the other boy was about to call off, “I, uh… I really love you. Like. A lot.”

It wasn’t really what he wanted to say. He wanted to say that Tony was stupid for putting all his chips in on Steve, that he should have just left it alone, not provoked Ty like that. He also wanted to say that, despite all of that, there weren’t quite any words for the way that it made Steve feel, to know that Tony would sacrifice all of that for him. It was hard to comprehend, really.

But he didn’t know how to put it into words. Didn’t know how to condense the massiveness of his emotions down into some pathetic little sentence that wouldn’t ever truly show Tony what was going on in Steve’s soul in that moment. So he said I love you instead, and hoped it would be enough.

Tony breathed out, the sound of his smile. “I love you ‘like, a lot,’ too,” he said, his voice both gentle and amused.

Steve lay back, his head hitting the pillows as Tony ended the call. Night had fallen outside his window, and he could hear the hard rain as it banged against the glass once again, relentless in its deluge. It hadn’t stopped since Monday, at this point.

He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. Something to distract himself with, that’s what he needed. He’d done pretty much all of the chores in the house and didn’t have any homework, so after a few seconds of debate he decided to take out his sketchbook and draw once more. The soothing motions of a pencil going back and forth was grounding, and he let his mind wander absently whilst faces were traced out onto the paper. He needed to call Bucky and Peggy and tell them what had happened. At times like this, there was always time for friends and possibly ice cream.

In the end though, not even his art could hold him for long, and he ended up calling it a night and going to bed. It was only 8 at night, but he was goddamn tired, thank you very much. It felt like he’d run an emotional marathon. Anyway, he wanted to get up early in the morning so that he could head out and check on Tony before stopping off and visiting Peggy and Bucky later on in the day, and the only way he could feasibly manage waking up on a weekend before 10am was if he got _at least_ 12 hours of sleep beforehand.

With a sigh, he tucked himself in and then lay his head on the pillow, trying to quiet his quick-paced mind. The cracked ceiling stared down at him as he counted each flaking piece of paint, and he twisted the ring on his thumb around and around absently, before his brain finally received the message that his body was trying to send, and he drifted off into a fitful doze.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

And then, at 10, he woke up.

Confused at first, he blinked his eyes open blearily, wincing at the bright blueish light that buzzed up on his phone. He sighed in irritation- someone was ringing him.

Sitting up a little on his elbow, he reached over and pulled the phone off his desk, checking the caller ID. If it was an unknown number, then he was straight-up just going to ignore it.

But it wasn’t an unknown number. It was Thor, for some reason. Steve frowned in confusion for a moment, before inexplicably, something dropped in his stomach- something heavy and deep, that tugged on his throat and made it a little difficult to breathe. He wasn’t even sure what it was exactly- he just knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that when he picked up that phone something bad was going to happen.

He almost didn’t. He was almost too afraid.

“Yeah?” He said quietly, trying to keep his voice steady. It could be anything. It could just be Thor saying hey, it could be that he needed a favour, it could be that he wanted to know if Steve had seen Loki anywhere- he’d done that a few times in the past.

And then Thor said two words, and Steve just knew.

 

“It’s Tony.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we have an update! I hope y'all had fun with this.... let's see what happens in the next chapter, hmmm

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on tumblr, @itsallavengers


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